CIRCULATING  LIBRARY, 

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-j  i-*  «;OVI:U.VIII:.\T  MTKI:I:T. 




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S.oolu  frum  Hie  l.i'.r.iry  mtutieturn  them  in  tiir 

• 

COOJ.IT-  I'rmler.      | 


SATURDAY    EVENING. 


BY    THE    AUTHOR   OF 

NATURAL   HISTORY   OF   ENTHUSIASM. 


Ou  Sri  <rs\o£  %  uvaifa,vtft$, 
ya.%  svsxn  <r% 


H1NGHAM: 

PUBLISHED    BY    C.   &    E.    B.    GILL. 

SOLD  BY  PERKINS  &  MARVIN,  AND  CROCKER  &  BREWSTER,  BOSTON  : 
D.  F.  ROBINSON  &  CO.,  HARTFORD  :  DCRRIE  &  PECK,  NEW'HAVEN 
COLLINS  &  HANNAY,  AND  J.  LEAVITT,  NEW-YORK  :  TOWAR  &  HOGAN, 
AND  GRIGG  &  ELLIOT,  PHILADELPHIA:  AND  ARMSTRONG  &  FLAS- 
KET, BALTIMORE. 

•   £ 

1833. 


ADVERTISEMENT. 


ALTHOUGH  the  Author  dedicates  his  pen  to  the  service  of  Religion, 
he  would  not  seem  (laymen  as  he  is)  to  trench,  either  upon  the 
season,  or  the  office  of  public  instruction.  But  there  remains  open 
to  him  the  SATURDAY  EVENING,  which  devout  persons,  whose 
leisure  permits  them  to  do  so,  are  accustomed  to  devote  to  prepara- 
tory meditation. 

The  subject  and  spirit  of  some  of  the  following  pages  may 
perhaps  convey  the  idea  that  the  title  of  the  volume  has  a  double 
significance,  and  is  intended  to  refer  to  the  expectation,  now  so 
generally  entertained  among  Christians,  that  our  own  times  are 
precursive  of  the  era  of  REST  which  has  been  promised  to  the 
Church  and  to  the  world. — The  Author  does  not  deny  that  an 
allusion  of  this  sort  has  been  present  to  his  mind ;  and  he  will  grant, 
moreover,  that  his  belief  on  this  head  has  at  once  furnished  no 
small  part  of  the  motive  owhis  undertaking,  and  given  direction, 
often,  to  his  thoughts. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE. 

I.— THE  HOUR  OF  HOPE  AND  DIFFIDENCE. 
"  That  day  was  the  Preparation"        .  1 

II.— THE  EXPECTATION  OF  CHRISTIANS. 
"  And  the  Sabbath  drew  on"  ^       .        .     ?  *  J    10 

III.— THE  COURAGE  PECULIAR  TO  TIMES  AND  PLACES. 
"  I  am  not  ashamed  of  the  Gospel  of  Christ"         .         .22 

IV.-LAXITY  AND  DECISION. 

"  That  I  may  make  manifest  the  mystery  of  Christ, 

as  I  ought  to  speak"       '".         .        .  f     .         .35 

V.— THE  MEANS  OF  MERCY. 
"  The  Gospel— the  Power  of  God  to  Salvation"     x- .  *    45 

VI.— THE  CHURCH  AND  THE  WORLD. 
"  The  world  knoweth  us  not"  ,  .   59 


CONTENTS. 


PAOE 

VII.— THE  STATE  OF  SACRED  SCIENCE. 
"  Thy  Testimonies  are  my  Meditation"  .  77 


VIII.— THE  HIDDEN  WORLD. 
"  The  things  that  are  unseen  are  eternal"  .         .101 

IX.— THE  STATE  OF  SECLUSION. 
"  The  things  that  are  seen  are  temporal"  .         .107 

X.— THE  LIMITS  OF  REVELATION. 
"  And  we  prophesy  in  part"  .         .  .         119 

XL— VASTNESS  OF  THE  MATERIAL  UNlVERSE.j 
"  When  I  consider  the  heavens — What  is  man !';         .    131 

XU.— PIETY  AND  ENERGY. 

"  Add  to  your  faith  virtue"  .        .         .        .         155 

XIII.—  THE  LAST  CONFLICT  OF  GREAT  PRINCIPLES. 

"  The  son  of  man,  when  he  cometh,  shall  he  find  faith 

on  the  earth'1  .         .         .  .         171 

XIV.— LICENTIOUS  RELIGIONISM. 

"  Add  to  virtue  knowledge,  and  to  knoweldge  temper- 
ance" 181 


CONTENTS.  Vll 

PACK. 

XV.— TEiE  POWER  OF  REBUKE. 

'  If  thou  take  forth  the  precious  from,  the  vile,  thou 
shalt  be  as  my  mouth  ;  and  I  will  make  thee  unto 
the  people  a  defenced  brazen  wall"         .         .  190 

XVI.— STRENGTH  OF  THE  POWER  OF  REBUKE. 
"Howbeit,  in  understanding,  be  men"  .         .         200 

XVII.- THE  RECLUSE. 

'  Add  to  Godliness,  brotherly  kindness"         .       .,„'          210 

XVIll.— THE   MODERN  ANCHORET. 

"  Add  to  brotherly  kindness  charity"  .         .   .        222 

XIX.— FAMILY  AFFECTION  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

-    P 

"  Be  kindly  affectioned  one  to  another,  with  brotherly 

love" 230 

XX.— CHARITY  AND  CONSCIENCE. 
"  For  meat  destroy  not  the  work  of  God"         .     '"%  ' .  244 

-•. ,'!*;• ., 

XXI.— THE  FEW  NOBLE. 
f1  Not  many  noble"         .         .         .         .         .         r         265 

XXII.— RUDIMENT  OF  CHRISTAN  31AGNANIM1TY. 

Let  him  that  glorieth,  glory  in  the  Lord"        '.        ,    279 


viii  CONTENTS. 


FACE. 

XXIII.— THE  DISSOLUTION  OP  HUMAN  NATURE. 

"  It  is  appointed  to  all  men  once  to  die"         .         .  296 


XXIV.— THE  STATE  OF  SOULS. 

11  They  all  live  unto  God"        ....  307 

XKV.— THE  THIRD  HEAVENS. 

"  In  thy  presence  is  fulness  of  joy : — at  thy  right  hand 

are  pleasures  for  evermore"         .         .         .         .319 

XXVI.— THE  PRECURSOR. 
''  Thou  wilt  shew  me  the  path  of  life"  .         336 

XXVII.— ENDLESS  LIFE. 
"  Neither  can  they  die  any  more"         .         .         .  345 

XXVIII.— THE  PERPETUITY  OF  HUMAN  NATURE. 
"  This  mortal — must  put  on  immortality          .         .       357 

XXIX.— UNISON  OF  THE  HEAVENLY  HIERARCHY. 
"  Christ — the  head  of  all  principality  and  power."  368 


SATURDAY  EVENING. 
i. 

THE  HOUR  OF  HOPE  AND  DIFFIDENCE. 

"  That  day  icaa  the  Preparation.'11 


No  position  of  the  human  mi  ad  is  more  peculiar  than 
the  one  it  occupies  when,  at  the  same  moment,  the  reasons 
of  hope  are  irrefragable,  and  the  motives  for  despondency 
are  overwhelming.  It  is  indeed  a  circumstance  of  common 
occurrence  for  a  fond  but  ill-grounded  wish  to  be  contend- 
ing against  the  authority  of  facts  and  truth,  and  striving  to 
maintain  its  place  in  contempt  of  all  probability.  So  frequent 
are  those  contests  between  our  desires  and  our  sober  sense, 
that  a  habit  is  generated,  in  all  but  the  most  frigid  minds, 
of  thinking  that  a  natural  antipathy  exists  between  hope 
and  reason.  A  strange  emotion  belongs  therefore  to  those 
rare  occasions  when,  although  hope  and  reason  are  seen 
to  be  consorted,  neither  can  well  be  listened  to. 

Religious  hopes,  more  often  perhaps  than  any  other  kind, 
have  been  liable  to  this  sort  of  conflict ;  and  it  has  so  hap- 
pened because,  while  religion  presents  the  brightest  and  the 
most  extensive  prospects,  and  possesses  too  the  firmest 
proofs — the  general  and  visible  current  of  human  affairs 
sets  in  an  opposite  line,  and  seems  continually  to  be  mock- 
ing every  valid  and  consolatory  expectation. 

2 


'.}  SAIVKUAY    I  ' 

More  than  n  low  signal  instances  might  be  gathered  In.-m 
the  pri^i-s  of  sacred  history  (ancient  and  modern)  in  which 
a  belief  that  could  not  be  surrendered,  because  it  rested  on 
the  most  solid  ground,  has  been  almost  forcibly  expelled 
from  the  minds  of  the  pious  by  the  contrary  evidence  of 
actual  facts.  And  it  has  usually  happened  that  the  si 
of  this  controversy  between  hope  and  fear,  has  fallen  upon 
the  moment  which  immediately  preceded  the  triumph  of 
the  former.  But  again,  this  triumph  has  very  often  been 
abated  by  the  small  resemblance  which  the  happy  reality, 
when  it  made  its  appearance,  bore  to  the  expectation  that 
had  been  indulged  concerning  it. 

The  crisis  of  religious  advancement — the  very  hour 
when  a  fading  order  of  things  has  become  obsolete,  and 
has  given  way  to  a  better— the  silent  juncture  of  eras 
(rfuv-rs'XEKx  <r£v  ai'wvwv)  has  usually,  or  perhaps  in  every  in- 
stance, combined  these  peculiar  characteristics,  and  has 
brought  into  collision  hope  and  dejection  ;  both  to  be  suc- 
ceeded by  that  which  hope  could  hardly  recognize  as  its 
archetype. 

To  name  at  once  the  most  pertinent  and  complete  of  all 
instances,  we  must  fix  upon  those  dim  hours  of  dismay  to 
the  scattered  followers  of  Christ,  which  immediately  pre- 
ceded the  bringing  in  of  light  and  immortality  for  mankind. 
The  companions  of  the  ministry  of  Jesus  knew  far  too 
much  of  his  divine  power  and  majesty,  to  throw  up  their 
profession  of  his  Messiahship,  even  when  it  seemed  utterly 
irrational  any  longer  to  maintain  it ;  for  their  Master,  in- 
stead of  scattering  with  a  word  the  mad  hostility  of  his 
foes,  had  yielded — had  been  overcome — had  actually  ex- 
pired upon  the  tree  of  ignominy.  And  yet  these  simple 
minds — "  slow  of  heart,"  and  unmindful  of  the  plain  fore- 
warnings  they  had  received,  and  fraught  with  egregious 


THE  HOUR  OF  HOPE  AND  DIFFIDENCE.  3 

suppositions,  knew  far  too  little  of  the  economy  of  that 
kingdom  of  heaven  of  which  they  were  to  be  the  ministers, 
to  put  a  true  interpretation  upon  the  sad  events  they  had 
witnessed.  Hope  was  overthrown  ;  and  yet  could  not  be 
abandoned.  The  men  of  Galilee  had  •'  trusted  that  this 
Jesus  was  he  who  should  have  redeemed  Israel."  But 
how  indulge  this  belief,  while  he  lay  a  mangled  corpse  in 
the  sepulchre? — or  how  resign  it,  when  his  mighty  mira- 
cles and  doctrine  were  fresh  in  their  recollection  ? 

That  Sabbath  was  indeed  a  signal  day  ;  although  all 
things  shewed  the  same  face  as  heretofore  in  the  thronged 
streets  of  the  Holy  City,  and  in  the  courts  of  the  Temple. 
But  among  the  worshippers  upon  the  hill  of  Zion  there 
were  not  a  few  troubled  heads.  Can  we  imagine  that  the 
Rulers  and  the  Rabbis  were  content  with  their  success, 
and  quite  at  ease  ?  Or  did  the  Prie?t  gaze  without  dismay 
upon  the  torn  veil,  and  upon  the  desecrated  mysteries  of 
the  Holiest  ?  This  may  not  be  thought : — the  infatuation 
of  crime  diseolves,  at  the  moment  when  crime  is  perpetrated  : 
and  it  is  not  improbable  that,  in  the  mind  of  some,  at  least, 
a  ghastly  fear  had  already  succeeded  to  the  joy  of  gratified 
revenge.  And  were  there  not  multitudes  of  the  people 
who,  though  in  favour  and  affection  more  unstable  than 
(he  sea,  now  regretted  that  they  had  drawn  upon  them- 
selves the  blood  of  one  whom  so  lately  they  hailed  as  the 
won  of  David  ? 

But  in  what  spirit  did  John,  and  Peter,  and  Mary,  the 
mother  of  Jesus,  and  the  other  devout  companions  of  the 
Lord,  attend  the  Temple  worship  on  that  Sabbath  ?  They 
joined  in  prayer  and  praise  like  others  ;  but  it  was  as  with 
a  sword  in  the  heart.  And  was  it  not  a  day  of  doubt  and 
alarm,  or  suspense,  and  of  dread  expectation,  or  of  pallid, 
misgiving  triumph,  in  the  unseen  world,  and  among  con- 


4  SATURDAY  EVF.XI.Vfi. 

dieting  orders  of  the  «pirilunl  economy  ? — On  this  ground 
we  may  not.  admit  surmises. — Hut  it  was  the  day  upon 
which  should  hinge  all  former  and  all  future  events  in  the 
history  of  man.  It  was  the  day  in  which  the  Redemption  of 
the  world  awaited  its  consummation,  and  its  proof.  The 
sun  of  that  day  went  down  in  clouds  ;  but  before  it  again 
appeared,  a  Brighter  Light  than  that  of  the  sun  had  arisen 
upon  the  nations  ! 

Instances  less  signal  indeed,  but  bearing  the  same  char- 
acter, might  be  chosen  at  several  points  in  the  subsequent 
history  of  Christianity. — As  when  the  rage  of  persecutors, 
Pagan,  Mahometan,  or  Popish,  had  so  nearly  effected  the 
extinction  of  the  Gospel,  that  nothing  seemed  more  likely. 
on  the  ground  of  natural  probability,  than  that  the  religion 
of  which  it  was  said  that  it  was  to  endure  for  ever,  should 
almost  immediately  cease  to  be  spoken  of  among  men.  And 
yet,  in  several  of  these  hours  of  darkness,  a  new  expansion 
of  the  Divine  efficacy  of  the  Gospel  was  near  at  hand.  If, 
from  the  small  number  of  instances  which  the  religious 
history  of  mankind  presents,  we  might  at  all  gather  a 
general  rule,  it  would  be  of  this  sort — That  the  hour  of 
Preparation  for  a  better  order  of  things  is  not  a  time  of 
favourable  appearances  ;  but  the  reverse  ;  and  that  never- 
theless, at  such  a  time,  human  affairs  are  actually  tending 
towards  the  approaching  change.  But  shall  it  ever  come 
within  the  reach  of  the  sagacity  of  man  to  discern,  beneath 
the  surface  of  events,  the  undeveloped  initiatives  of  good 
things  to  come  ?  Probably  not.  And  yet,  if  we  look  back 
to  almost  any  of  the  instances  to  which  allusion  has  been 
made,  we  are  rather  tempted  to  wonder  that  the  men  of 
those  times  should  not  have  anticipated  the  then  bursting 
revolution,  than  are  disposed  to  think  the  obscurity  ~of  their 
viewa  inevitable. 


THE  HOUR  OP  HOPE  AND  DIFFIDENCE.  5 

We  have,  in  fact,  the  highest  authority  for  attributing 
to  a  strange  infatuation,  the  slackness  of  the  first  disciples 
of  Christ  in  discerning  the  signs  of  that  time  of  renovation. 
It  is  indeed  amazing  that,  after  having  received,  in  the 
most  explicit  terms,  from  their  Master,  a  forewarning  of 
his  ignominious  death,  and  a  distinct  promise  of  his  speedy 
resurrection,  they  should  at  all  have  admitted  (as  it  is  plain 
they  did)  despondency  in  regard  to  his  Messiahship,  when 
by  the  exact  accomplishment,  in  all  its  preliminary  circum- 
stances, of  his  prediction,  they  received  a  new  and  con- 
vincing proof  of  his  divine  prescience  !  It  could  not  have 
been  deemed  a  blameworthy  presumption,  had  they  (in- 
structed as  they  were)  exulted,  though  with  tears,  in  anti- 
cipation of  his  triumph  over  death  and  hell ;  and  had  even 
made  the  rocky  garden  of  the  sepulchre  to  resound  with 
songs.  It  was  because  they  did  not,  in  some  such  manner, 
wisely  meet  the  occasion,  that  they  were  upbraided  by  their 
Lord,  when  again  he  appeared  among  them. 

Or  does  it  seem  immensely  to  exceed  the  compass  of  the 
human  mind,  if  we  imagine  that  some  at  least  of  the  be- 
lievers of  the  first,  second,  and  third  centuries,  even  at  the 
times  of  the  extremest  depression  of  the  Christian  name, 
had  marked  the  evident  symptoms  of  decrepitude  in  the 
false  worship  of  the  Roman  world — had  calculated  on  the 
natural  consequence  of  the  universal  scepticism  of  the 
higher  classes,  and  of  the  forced  and  hardly-sustained 
fanaticism  of  the  mass  of  the  people  ;  and  had  seen  that 
the  struggle  of  polytheism  was  an  expiring  struggle  ;  and 
must  ere  long  fail  before  the  Divine  excellence  and  vigour 
of  the  doctrine  of  Christ  1  Because  the  immediate  power 
of  God  was  engaged  in  the  spread  and  triumph  of  the  Gos- 
pel, it  is  not  less  true  that  the  efficacy  from  on  high  took 
its  course  in  the  channel  of  ordinary  causes ;  nor  that, 

2* 


6  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

when  the  idols  of  the  empire  were  "  cast  to  the  moles  and 
to  the  bats,"  the  event  was,  in  an  intelligible  sense,  the  con- 
sequence of  the  precursive  movements  of  the  social  system. 
And  in  these  movements  there  might  have  been  discern- 
ed— notwithstanding  all  contrary  appearances,  the  dawn 
of  the  coming  day. 

The  same,  as  every  one  must  allow,  is  to  be  said  of  the 
restoration  of  Christianity,  in  modern  times.  An  act  of 
grace  was  it  from  above  ! — But  not  less  the  consequence 
of  the  anterior  condition  of  Christendom.  The  closing 
years  of  the  sixteenth  century  were,  in  all  senses — "  a  day 
of  preparation,"  from  end  to  end  of  Europe ;  as  well  in  the 
states  that  actually  received  the  least  as  in  those  that  re- 
ceived the  greatest  benefits  from  the  Reformation.  And 
there  are,  in  fact,  indications  that  the  great  revolution  was 
dimly  anticipated  by  some  who  lived  not  to  see  it  achieved. 

But  in  this,  and  other  instances,  it  is  to  be  observed  that 
the  actual  preparatives  were  not  so  much  to  be  found  on 
the  side  or  within  the  circle  of  truth  and  piety  ;  as  abroad  ; 
and  on  the  surface,  %nd  beneath  it,  of  that  wide  field  of 
ruin  that  was  to  be  the  scene  of  renovation.  And  at  this 
point  it  is  that  human  sagacity  goes  astray.  Our  natural 
impulsion  is,  when  happy  changes  are  comtemplated,  to 
look  for  some  promise  of  it  to  the  quarters  of  light. — Not 
there  are  the  true  indications  to  be  (seen  ;  but  rather  amid 
the  thick  gloom  that  is  spread  on  all  sides.  It  is  a  stirring 
upon  the  face  of  the  dark  waters  that  gives  a  prognostic  of 
the  breaking  forth  of  light,  and  life,  and  order.  Does  not 
the  Divine  agent,  as  well  in  his  acts  of  moral,  as  of  material 
creation,  though  he  may  take  up  some  inconsiderable  ex- 
isting element  as  the  germ  of  what  is  to  come,  yet  produce 
that  which  none  can  deem  an  expansion  only  of  things 
that  already  were  in  being  ? 


THE  HOUR  OF  HOPE  AND  DIFFIDENCE.  7 

If  partial  or  local  improvements  or  reforms  are  in  ques- 
tion, we  may  safely  refer  to  the  probable  efficiency  of  ex- 
isting and  visible  means. — For  in  the  detail,  God  works 
by  proximate  causes. — Is  it  asked  whether  this  or  that  par- 
ticular circle  is  to  be  renovated  ?  we  look  to  the  piety,  and 
energy,  and  devout  fervour  of  any  who  may  be  attempting 
to  restore  it.  But  on  a  larger  scale  of  things,  human 
agency  disappears.  The  work,  even  though  still  effected 
by  human  instruments,  belongs  to  another  hand.  The 
scheme  is  here  too  immense,  and  too  intricate,  to  be  devised 
and  arranged  by  the  understanding  of  man-;  and  of  such 
full-proportioned  revolutions  it  shall  always  be  said — "  This 
is  the  Lord's  doing  ;" — to  man  belongs  only  devout  amaze- 
ment. 

Is  the  conversion  of  all  nations  in  question  ? — We  have 
then  before  us,  first  a  practical,  and  then  a  theoretic  subject 
of  inquiry.  And  in  reference  to  the  former,  no  difficulty 
can  be  started.  The  duty  of  every  Christian  to  promote 
piety  within  his  family— and  his  neighbourhood,  is  un- 
questioned ;  and  the  most  distant  missionary  enterprise  (if 
prudently  undertaken  and  conducted)  is  nothing  else  than 
an  extension  of  that  charity  which  we  severally  owe  to  our 
neighbour.  A  village  of  England,  and  a  village  of  India, 
are  the  same  in  the  sight  of  Christian  zeal ;  if  it  comes 
within  our  power  to  convey  to  the  inhabitants  of  either 
the  knowledge  of  God  and  his  Gospel. 

It  is  manifest  that  no  opinions  we  may  entertain  relative 
to  the  second,  or  theoretic  question,  concerning  the  con- 
version of  the  world,  can  (properly)  interfere,  in  the 
smallest  degree,  with  what  we  are  called  to  do,  personally, 
for  the  conversion  of  those  (far  or  near)  who  may  come 
within  our  circle  of  influence.  Truly  it  is  a  pitiable  imbe- 
cility of  mind  that  leads  some  to  withdraw  from  the  field 


8  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

of  evangelical  labour,  because  they  surmise  that  the  vast 
designs  of  Heaven  are  soon  to  be  accomplished  in  a  man- 
ner of  its  own  choice.  Shall  not  our  children  be  taught 
to  read,  to  praise,  to  pray  until  we  know  what  is  to  be  the 
fate  of  China  and  of  India  ?  But  it  is  plain  we  might  quite 
as  reasonably  put  to  a  stop  the  routine  of  domestic  in- 
struction, on  some  such  fantastic  plea,  as  delay  or  cease  to 
send  Bibles  and  teachers  to  the  children  of  China  or  of  In- 
dia, on  the  same  ground.  To  do  so  is  indeed  most  misera- 
bly to  confound  the  pratical  with  the  theroretic — the  cer- 
tain with  the  doubtful. 

A  consideration  of  the  theoretic  qtiestion,  concerning 
the  conversion  of  mankind,  if  rightly  interpreted,  and 
wisely  used  instead  of  tending  to  enhance  or  give  colour  to 
the  indolent  delusions  that  are  now  abroad,  would  at  once 
greatly  stimulate  our  zeal,  and  (which  perhaps  is  still 
more  to  be  desired)  would  simplify  every  motive  ; — free  the 
heart  from  a  too  onerous  solicitude  ; — renders  us  more  tran- 
quil amid  seeming  reverses ;  and  especially  lead  us,  with 
more  reverence,  to  wait  upon  God  for  the  fulfilment  of  his 
promises.  In  the  preparation,  and  arrangement,  and 
government  of  our  evangelical  istitutions,  we  have  indeed 
too  slenderly  admitted  the  principles  of  human  prudence  ; 
while  in  our  expectations  and  surmisses  of  what  is  to  be 
the  issue  of  our  endeaveur,  we  have  too  much  gone  on  the 
ground  of  those  secular  principles  which  in  word  we  re- 
nounce. This  species  of  inconsistency  besets  the  human 
mind  at  every  turn. 

It  may  be — who  shall  deny  it  ? — that  the  zeal  which 
now  animates  a  thousand  bosoms,  and  shall  ere  long  ani- 
mate the  bosoms  of  a  million ; — that  for  evey  ten,  who 
now  devote  themselves  to  the  service  of  the  nations,  there 
shall  stand  forth  a  hundred  ; — that  printing,  and  trnnsla- 


THE  HOUR  OP  HOPE  AND  DIFFIDENCE.  9 

lion,  and  teaching1,  shall  fill,  year  after  year,  with  rapid  in- 
crease, a  wider  circle.  It  may  be  that  the  Christian  of  this 
age,  or  the  sons  of  the  present  movers  of  missions,  may  be- 
come so  devoted,  and  so  wise,  and  so  receive  power  from 
above,  as  that  obstacles  and  opposition  shall  give  wray, 
and  the  field — the  field  of  the  world,  be  vanquished  by 
their  hands.  Such  may  perhaps  be  the  order  of  the  Divine 
compassion  to  mankind. — And  assuredly  wre  should  act 
and  pray  in  hope  of  it.  This  is  our  circle  ; — here  is  our 
part ;  and  what  ever  may  be  the  issue,  faithful  service, 
rendered  on  this  ground,  shall  not  lose  its  reward. 

But  it  is  not  in  this  direction  we  should  look,  when  we 
venture  to  inquire  whether  the  present  era  may  be  thought 
"  a  day  of  preparation,"  precursive  of  the  promised  Sabbath 
of  mankind.  A  theme  like  this  is  far  greater  than  that  it 
should  connect  itself  with  a  catalogue  of  our  societies,  or 
Avith  the  sum  total  of  subscriptions,  or  with  the  extent  of 
our  foreign  labours : — or,  in  a  word,  with  any  circum- 
stances that  belong  to  the  present  condition,  or  efforts,  of 
the  Christian  church.  We  are  to  look  beyond  the  wralls 
of  the  sanctuary. 


II. 

TUN   KM'KOTATJON  OF  CHRISTIANS. 

" And  the  Sabbath  drcir  on." 


SHALL  we  then  look  for  a  moment  to  the  present  reli- 
gious condition  of  mankind  ?  If  it  were  lawful  so  far  to 
extend  an  apostolic  axiom  as  to  apply  it  (beyond  its  prop- 
er scope)  to  the  actual  state  of  polytheistic,  mahometan, 
and  popisli  superstitions,  in  all  quarters  of  the  world,  the 
brightest  hopes  which  Christians  of  late  have  indulged, 
would  be  at  once  authenticated. — "  That,"  says  the  writer 
of  the  epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  '•'  that  which*  has  become 
antiquated  and  decrepit  with  age,  is  nigh  to  its  final  disap- 
pearance." 

Nothing  more  remarkably  distinguishes  the  religion.-* 
state  of  mankind  in  our  own  times,  as  compared  with  any 
other  eras,  concerning  which  history  enables  us  at  all  to 
form  an  opinion,  than  the  air  of  DOTAGE  which  belongs, 
icithout  exception,  to  every  one  of  the  leading  eurpersti- 
tions  of  the  nations.  There  have  been  times  when,  if 
some  were  on  their  wane,  others  were  in  full  vigour,  or 
just  starting  forth  from  their  cradle  with  a  giant  strength. 
If  we  track  the  course  of  time  during  the  lapse  of  four-and- 
twenty  centuries,  we  shall  find  this  to  have  been  the  case 
in  each  period.  In  each  there  was,  in  some  quarter  within 
the  circle  of  historic  light,  or  its  penumbra,  one  or  more 

*    To  <5«  ffaXex.iouju.Evov  xni  XrjPaO'xov,  iyj-v$  dya.vuffj.ov. 


THK   EXPECTATION  OP  CHRISTIANS.  1  1 

forms  of  religious  error  which  very  firmly  grasped  the 
minds  of  the  nations  that  were  its  victims. 

Although  our  knowledge  of  the  human  race  is  now  in- 
comparably more  extensive,,  and  accurate,  than  ever  has 
been  heretofore  possessed,  we  can  descry,  in  no  direction, 
a  young  and  hale  and  mantling  religious  delusion,  such 
as  threatens  to  become  invasive  ;  or  \yhich  attracts  the  eyes 
of  mankind  by  the  signal  proofs  it  is  giving  of  its  sway  of 
the  imagination  and  the  turbulent  passions  of  our  nature. 
The  contrary  is  the  fact,  and  it  is  so  in  every  zone.  It  is 
conspicuous  that  the  demons  are  holding  the  reins  of  their 
power  with  a  tremulous  hand.  The  spirit  of  counsel  and 
might  has  left  them  :  the  spirit  of  adventure  and  bold  im- 
posture has  also  departed.  It  seems  as  if  there  were  neither 
courage  nor  concert  in  the  halls  of  aerial  government. 
Not  only  is  every  extant  form  of  error  ancient — most  of 
them  immemorially  so  ;  but  every  form  is  imbecile,  as 
well  as  old.  Or  if  we  would  seek  a  phrase  that  should  at 
once  describe  the  present  condition  of  false  religion,  uni- 
versally, we  find  it  in  the  expression  already  quote'd — The 
errors  of  mankind  are  now  "  antiquated,  and  in  their 
dotage." — Dare  we  so  far  penetrate  futurity  as  to  add — 
"  They  are  ready  to  vanish  away  ?" 

A  theme  so  copious  as  this,  and  one  in  connexion  with 
which  a  powerful  impression  on  the  mind  may  readily  and 
unconsciously  operate  to  mould  facts  to  its  own  form, 
should  perhaps  hardly  find  a  place  at  all,  where  a  page 
only  can  be  given  to  the  subject.  Nevertheless,  its  high 
significance  at  the  present  moment  must  excuse  its  intro- 
duction ;  and  if  the  writer  exaggerates,  every  reader,  al- 
most, has  at  hand  the  means  of  reducing  his  statement  to 
the  dimensions  of  truth. 

But  in  taking  this  glance  at  the  religion  of  the  nations, 


\2  SATURDAY    KVKN1NG. 

our  special  purpose  must  uot  be  lost  sight  of. — We  are  aol 
labouring  to  prove  that  the  human  race,  generally,  id  in  a 
condition  which  shall  render  our  evangelic  enterprises:  easy 
and  rapidly  successful.  This  i.s  a  matter  we  do  not  touch. 
—Nor  are  we  about  to  say  that  some  extraordinary  revolu- 
tion of  the  human  mind,  in  matters  of  religion,  is  now  clear- 
ly prognosticated  by  certain  visible,  *ymptoms  of  change. 
This  might  perhaps  be  affirmed,  and  made  to  appear  pro- 
bable ; — but  it  is  not  our  purpose  to  affirm  it.  Our  theme 
is  simply — That  if  there  be  independent  reasons  for  sur- 
mising that  a  great  and  happy  change,  to  be  brought  about, 
by  unusual  means,  is  not  very  distant — then,  the  actual 
and  unparalleled  condition  of  mankind,  in  matters  of  reli- 
gion, is  worthy  of  profound  attention  ;  and  may  well  be 
assumed  as  singularly  corroborative  of  such  an  expectation. 
In  a  word  ; — if  it  be  conjectured  that  now,  at  length,  the 
Sabbath  made  for  man  draws  on,  then  does  the  aspect  of 
the  time  we  live  in,  well  suit  the  description  of  "  a  day  of 
preparation." 

To  the  lowest  stage  of  moral  and  civil  existence  in  which 
man  is  any  where  found — that,  for  example,  of  the  tribes 
of  southern  and  central  Africa — of  the  aborigines  of  Aus- 
tralia, and  of  the  rude  occupants  of  the  coasts  of  the  Fro- 
zen Sea  ; — to  the  naked  and  wandering  Troglodyte,  and 
the  Ichthyophagus,  find  him  where  w-e  may,  nothing  prop- 
erly historical  belongs.  Not  only  have  such  races  no 
records,  and  no  tradition  (or  none  worthy  of  the  name), 
but  the  whole  of  their  condition  is  the  product  of  immediate 
physical  causes  ; — not  of  moral  and  political  causes,  which, 
to  be  understood,  must  be  followed  up  through  the  ascent 
of  time.  An  inheritance  in  history  is  a  rudiment  of  great- 
ness, and  of  improvement  too,  of  which  such  objects  are 
destitute  ; — and  if  \ve  must  speak  of  the  religion  of  such 


THE   EXPECTATION  OF  CHRISTIANS.  13 

tribes,  nothing  is  to  be  named  but  the  mere  germs  of  that 
instinct  of  Invisible  Power  which  neither  misery  nor  vice 
can  wrench  from  the  human  breast.  Nations  of  this  lowest 
class  are  always,  and  alike  in  every  age,  prepared  for 
any  change  of  which  their  participation  of  moral  faculties 
may  render  them  susceptible.  And  the  glory  of  the  Gos- 
pel/in  our  day,  is  to  have  conferred,  even  upon  some  such, 
the  dignity  of  virtue  and  immortal  hope  ! 

The  heroic  savage  who  stalks  through  the  wilderness 
of  America,  and  the  pallid  Mongul,  and  the  feverish  Tar- 
tar, of  central  Asia,  and  the  luxurious  islander  of  the 
Southern  and  Pacific  Ocean,  are  men  upon  whose  visage, 
in  whose  customs,  and  in  whose  belief  we  read  the  char- 
acters of  a  distant  age  : — they  all  may  boast  an  ancestry r, 
and  they  possess  a  memorial.  They  are  not  the  mere 
progeny  of  the  desert,  born  of  oblivion,  and  destined  to 
oblivion  ;  but  the  descendants  of  MEN  ;  and  the  races  they 
belong  to  are  the  wrecks  of  primitive  empires.  A  person 
of  princely  birth  and  education  has  wandered  far  from  his 
patrimony,  has  fallen  from  his  rank,  has  endured  many 
degradations,  has  forgotten  his  rights  :  nevertheless  there 
is  an  inalienable  greatness  about  him  ;  and  even  the  trump- 
ery of  the  ornaments  he  wears  contains  proof  of  his  noble 
lineage.  Like  every  thing  else  that  distinguishes  these 
fallen  and  impoverished  families,  their  religion  is  a — RELIC. 
And  it  is  a  relic,  faded  in  colours,  and  decayed.  If  the 
history  of  the  subjugation  of  the  empires  of  Mexico,  and 
Peru,  and  if  that  of  the  Tartar  conquests  of  the  middle 
ages,  and  if  the  imperfect  notices  of  the  ancient  Scythian 
nations,  preserved  by  the  Greek  writers,  may  be  taken  as 
affording  the  means  of  a  comparison  between  the  present 
and  the  past  religious  condition  of  those  classes  of  the 
human  family  of  which  we  are  speaking,  it  is  quite  mani- 

3 


14  ^vri'RDAY   KVfiMNG. 


fe*t  that  the  dimness,  and  the  incertitude,  and  the  terrori 
of  extreme  age  have  come  upon  all  their  superstitions.  The 
force  of  the  fanaticism  they  once  engendered  is  spent.  The 
demon  is  le.^  the  object  of  terror,  is  less  often  and  less 
largely  propitiated  with  blood  ;  —  the  priest  is  less  a  prince 
than  he  was,  and  more  a  mercenary.  Yes,  and  symptoms 
have  appeared,  even  in  this  class  —  of  incredulity  and  rea- 
son. No  phrase  better  describes  these  now  fading  errors, 
than  that  already  quoted  —  they  are  "  all  superannuated 
and  decaying  with  age." 

By  civilization  and  industry,  but  not  in  matters  of  reli- 
gion, the  Chinese  is  eatitled  to  take  rank  above  his  nothern 
neighbour,  cousin,  and  conqueror  —  the  Mogul.  In  truth 
it  must  hardly  be  said  that  there  is  any  thing  of  religion 
in  China,  if  we  deduct,  on  the  one  hand,  what  is  purely 
an  instrument  of  civil  polity  —  a  pomp  of  government  ; 
and  on  'the  other,  what  is  mere  domestic  usage,  or  im- 
memorial decoration  of  the  home  economy.  Ages  have 
passed  away  since  mind,  or  feeling,  or  passion,  animated 
the  religion  of  China.  The  religion  of  China  is  now  a 

o  o 

thing,  not  only  as  absurdly  gay,  but  as  dead  at  heart,  as 
an  Egyptian  mummy  :  —  it  is  fit  only  to  rest  where  it  has 
lain  two  thousand  years  :  —  touch  it  —  shake  it  —  it  crumbles 
to  dust.  Let  but  the  civil  institutions  of  China  be  broken 
up,  and  we  might  look  about  in  vain  for  its  religion. 

But  may  not  at  least  the  dark  and  gorgeous  superstitions 
of  India  boast  of  undiminished  strength,  as  well  as  of  ven- 
erable age  ?  Antiquated  as  they  are,  can  we  allirm  that 
they  totter  ?  Less  so,  it  may  be  granted,  than  any  other 
forms  of  false  religion  upon  earth.  —  They  were  born  for 
longevity  ;  they  arc  the  very  beings  of  the  climate  ;  al- 
most as  proper  to  it  as  its  prodigious  and  venomous  reptiles. 
But  can  it  be  said  of  these  illusions,  firm  as  they  still  seem, 


THE  EXPECTATION  OF  CHRISTALN'S.  15 

that  they  have  not  been  placed  in  jeopardy  during  the  last 
fifty  years,  and  especially  of  late  ?  Is  there  not  even  now, 
iu  the  fanaticism  of  India,  more  of  usage  than  of  passion  ? 
And  we  well  know  that  the  very  crisis  of  a  profound  re- 
ligion system,  such  as  Hindooism — such  as  Romanism, 
comes  on,  when  the  enormities  which  once  were  cruel  and 
sincere,  begin  to  be  simply  loathsome  and  farcical.  Be- 
sides ;  docs  not  the  strength  of  the  religion  of  India  con- 
sist in  the  credit  of  the  Braminical  order?  The  beard  of 
the  Bramin  is  the  secret  of  its  power ;  but,  like  the  locks 
of  Samson,  may  it  not  readily  be  lost  ?  The  credit  of  the 
Bramin  rests  upon  the  unnatural  partition  of  the  people  by 
caste  :  and  this  partition  is  hastening  to  decay. 

If  the  question  related  to  the  probable  facility  with  which 
the  Gospel,  in  our  hands,  would  prevail  over  the  delusions 
of  the  Hindoo,  it  might  seem  one  of  very  difficult  solution. 
But  we  ask  no  more  than  this — Whether  the  superstitions 
of  India,  and  of  the  adjacent  countries,  do  not  (even  admit- 
ting their  actual  hold  of  the  people)  partake  of  that  charac- 
ter of  SUPERANNUATION  which  now  so  remarkably  belongs 
to  every  other  impiety  and  error  in  the  world  ?  We  scruple 
not  to  assume  the  affirmative. 

Those  fanciful  analogies  which  it  has  become  the 
fashion,  abroad,  to  employ  for  the  illustration  of  the  history 
of  natiews  (much  to  the  hurt  of  all  sound  principles)  are  to 
be  carefully  avoided.  Or  at  least  we  should  not  build  an 
argument  upon  any  such  uncertain  ground.  This  cau- 
tion premised,  it  must  be  confessed  that,  in  contemplating 
as  a  whole  the  history  of  the  two  magnific  superstitions 
which  now  sway  all  tire  nations  of  the  middle  stage  of 
civilization — embracing  the  south  of  Europe,  the  south  of 
Asia,  the  nothern  regions  of  Africa,  and  South  America, 
it  is  difficult  (in  regard  to  both  of  them  alike)  to  exclude 


16  SATl  RDAV   KVEMNCi. 

from  the  mind  the  resemblance  which  their  History  bears 
to  the  course  of  human  life,  from  the  vigour  of  youth  to 
the  decripitude  of  age.  Is  it  not  as  if  the  many  nations 
\ve  have  mentioned,  were  now  in  tutelage,  under  the  hand 
of  a  venerable  pair — male  and  female,  both  equally  stricken 
in  years  ;  and  both  equally  petulant,  jealous,  rigid,  and 
effete  ;  and  very  likely  to  go  to  their  sepulchres  in  com- 
pany ? 

The  grave  and  masculine  superstition  of  the  Asiatic 
nations,  which  employed  the  hot  blood  of  its  youth  in  con- 
quering all  the  fairest  regions  of  the  earth,  spent  its  long 
and  bright  manhood  in  the  calm  and  worthy  occupations 
of  government  and  intelligence.  During  four  centuries,  the 
successors  of  Mahomet  were  the  only  men  the  human  race 
could  at  all  boast  of.  In  the  later  season  of  its  maturity, 
and  through  n.  long  course  of  time,  the  steadiness,  the 
gravity,  and  their  immoveable  rigour,  which  often  mark 
the  temper  of  man  from  the  moment  when  his  activity 
declines,  and  until  infirmity  is  confessed,  belonged  to  Is- 
lamism,  both  western  and  eastern.  And  now,  is  it  neces- 
snry  to  prove  that  every  symptom  characteristic  of  the  last 
stage  of  human  life,  attaches  to  it ')  Mahometan  empire 
is  decrepit ;  Mahometan  fa  ith  is  decrepit :  and  both  are  so 
by  confession  of  the  parties.  In  matter  both  civil  and  re- 
ligious, those  days  are  come  upon  this  superstition  in  which 
— "  The  sun,  and  the  moon,  and  the  stars,  are  darkened  ;" 
nor  do  "  the  clouds  (of  refreshment)  return  after  the  rain. — 
And  the  keepers  of  the  house  tremble ;  and  the  strong  bow 
themselves  ;  and  the  grinders  (the  powers  of  mechanic  art 
and  trade)  cease,  because  they  are  few.  And  they  that 
look  out  at  the  windows  (the  learned  class)  are  darkened. 
And  the  doors  are  shut  in  the  streets  (by  jealousy  and 
depopulation)  and  the  weakfulness  of  conscious  danger  is 


THE  EXPECTATION  OF  CHRISTIANS.  17 

upon  it ;  and  the  daughters  of  music  (revelry)  are  brought 
low  ;  and  fears  are  in  the  way  ;  and  desire  faileth." 

Is  it  indeed  a  gratuitous  assumption,  advanced  only  to 
give  completeness  to  an  argument,  when  we  say — That 
the  religion  of  the  Prophet  is  now  in  its  stage  of  extreme 
decrepitude  ? 

But  in  what  terms  are  we  fairly  to  describe  the  present 
health  and  powers  of  the  haggard  Superstition  of  the 
West  ? — If  the  strength  of  immortality  indeed  be  in  her, 
to  what  region  has  the  vital  energy  retired  ? — is  it  kindling 
about  the  heart  ?  Is  it  within  and  around  the  pestilential 
levels  of  the  Tiber,  that  we  are  to  find  the  force,  the  con- 
centration, the  fervour,  that  should  belong  to  the  centre  of 
a  living  body  ?  Or  may  we  choose  among  the  extremi- 
ties ?  Is  the  Catholic  faith  otherwise  than  decrepit,  as  it 
exists  in  the  midst  of  the  sceptical  intelligence  of  the  north 
of  Italy  ;  or  by  the  side  of  the  mystical  unbelief  of  Ger- 
many ?  Or  shall  we  prefer  the  mockery  of  France,  to  the 
debauchery  of  Spain,  and  of  Portugal,  when  we  are  thus 
in  search  of  the  power  and  promise  of  popery  ?  But  per- 
haps Ireland  is  the  asylum  of  the  true  and  indestructible 
religion  !  Those  who  will  console  themselves  with  such 
a  supposition,  shall  not  be  disturbed  in  their  dreams ;  and 
yet  will  we  not  hold  our  conclusion  in  suspense — That 
Popery,  like  Mahometan  ism,  and  every  other  superstition 
of  mankind,  is  in  its  wane. — Upon  the  Church  of  Rome, 
most  conspicuously,  have  come  the  many  loathsome  in- 
firmities that  usually  attend  the  close  of  a  dissolute  life. 
She  who  once  lived  deliciously,  and  courted  kings  to  her 
couch  is  now  spurned,  and  mocked,  and  hated,  in  her  wrink- 
les. Every  ear  into  which  she  would  whisper  an  obsequious 
petition,  is  averted  from  the  steam  of  her  corrupted  breath  ! 

The  Greek  church  should  not  be  quite  omitted  ;  but  if 


18  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

we  affirmed  that  second  childhood  had  come  upon  it,  we 
should  plainly  err  ;  for  childishness  has  been  its  character, 
even  from  its  youth  up.  The  offspring  of  a  decrepit  power} 
it  has  known  nothing,  in  its  long  life  of  fourteen  centuries 
— but  inanity  : — has  cared  for  nothing  but  toys  ! 

The  Protestant  communities  of  nothern  Europe  are  not 
to  be  spoken  of  summarily,  or  in  mass.  Let  them  stand 
aside  from  our  survey.  The  course  of  affairs  may  proba- 
bly, at  no  distant  time,  decide  upon  their  respective  merits, 
and  shew  which  of  them  has  lost,  and  which  retains,  the 
Spirit  of  Life. 

Three  very  distinct  inferences  might  be  drawn  from  the 
remarkable  fact  (which  will  hardly  be  disputed)  of  the  now 
antiquated  and  infirm  state  of  every  existing  superstition. 
The  first  of  these  might  be  termed  the  Atheistic  inference  ; 
the  second,  the  Evangelic  ;  and  the  third,  the  Prophetic. 

There  are  those  who,  in  looking  abroad  upon  mankind 
at  the  present  moment,  and  in  gathering  up  the  general 
result  of  all  the  facts  to  which,  hastily,  we  have  alluded, 
would  indulge  the  belief  that  the  instinct  of  religion  in  the 
human  mind  is  slowly  wearing  out ; — that  the  habitude  of 
worship  is  being  obliterated ;  and  that  an  age  or  more  to 
come  shall  see  nation  after  nation  renouncing  both  the 
forms  and  the  substance  of  its  regard  to  invisible  power. 
Against  such  an  inference  there  lies  the  unbroken  evidence 
of  experience  in  all  ages,  and  all  places : — not  to  say,  the 
invincible  proof  of  Christianity. 

The  second,  or  evangelic  inference,  from  the  same  facts, 
must  be  granted  to  be  valid  by  every  Christian  ;  as  well 
as,  in  the  highest  degree,  momentous.  Although  it  will 
by  no  means  follow  (facts  prove  the  contrary)  that  because 
the  grasp  of  fanaticism  is  becoming  less  firm  upon  the  hu- 
man heart  than  heretofore,  therefore  men  will  now  readily 


THE  EXPECTATION  OF  CHRISTIANS.  19 

admit  the  better  faith  we  offer  them  ;  nevertheless  it  is  un- 
questionably an  enterprise  of  more  promise,  to  assail  the 
nations  in  their  hour  of  faintness  and  solution,  than  at  a 
'time  when  magnificent  and  seductive  systems  of  worship 
were  at  their  height  of  energy  and  splendour.  If  proba- 
bilities drawn  from  the  state  of  the  human  mind  are  at  all 
to  be  looked  to,  should  we  not  rather,  for  example,  carry 
a  mission  into  the  heart  of  Persia  or  Turkey  now,  than  in 
the  age  of  Almamon,  or  Almansor  ?  Or  should  we  not 
rather  (personal  peril  not  considered)  disseminate  the  word 
of  life  in  the  Spanish  republics  of  America  in  our.  own 
times,  than  in  the  times  of  the  zealous  Torquemada  ? 

In  this  sense,  the  present  era  may  justly  be  deemed  the 
day  of  hope  for  the  Gospel.  No  such  singular  conjuncture 
of  symptoms,  throughout  the  world,  has  ever  before  invited 
the  activity  and  zeal  of  Christians.  And  if  the  pressure  of 
responsibility  is  at  all  times  great  upon  them,  in  this  behalf* 
it  has  acquired  now  a  treble  weight :  inasmuch  as  it  seems 
as  if  the  antagonist  powers  were  fast  drawing  off  from  the 
field.  Looking  out  to  the  long  and  many-coloured  array 
of  ghostly  domination,  as  it  stretches  its  lines  across  plains 
and  hills,  we  discern  movement ; — but  it  is  the  stir  of  re- 
treat. Encampments  are  breaking  up  ;  barriers  are  tram- 
pled upon  ;  standards  are  furled  ;  the  clarion  of  dismay  is 
sounded. — This — this  then  is  the  hour  for  the  hosts  of  the 
Lord  to  snatch  their  weapons,  and  be  up  ! 

Ours  then  is  a  "  day  of  preparation"  in  the  sense  of  mis- 
sionary enterprise ;  and  on  this  ground,  notwithstanding 
all  discouragements,  it  may  be  hoped,  not  feebly,  that  "  the 
Sabbath  draweth  on." 

But  there  is  yet  an  inference  distinct  from  the  one  we 
have  named,  which  fairly  may  be  drawn  from  the  present 
religious  condition  of  mankind.  We  term  it  a  prophetic 
inference ;  because  its  validity  rests  altogether  upon  the 


20  SATURDAY   EVENING. 

ground  of  those  predictions  —  scattered  through  the  Inspired 
Volume,  which  declare  —  that  true  religion  shall  at  length 
be  universal.  This  only  being  assumed,  we  may  attribute 
ns  much,  or  as  little  value,  as  we  think  fit,  to  those  special 
interpretations  which  bring  the  lines  of  prophecy  to  con- 
verge upon  the  present  age.  All  such  disputable  interpre- 
tations apart,  it  is  impossible  to  compare  the  general  sense 
of  prophetic  Scripture,  with  the  movement  —  the  taxation 
of  the  human  mind,  in  all  countries,  without  admitting  a 
sentiment  of  awe  and  expectation.  And  this  sentiment  i» 
rendered  the  more  intense  by  the  fact,  that  the  decrepitude 
of  superstition  has  been  rapidly  accelerated  of  late  ;  —  the 
powers  of  its  life  have  sunk  apace  ;  and  mortal  symptoms 
have  appeared  in  quick  succession. 

No  sound  mind  would  draw,  from  views  like  these, 
definite  surmises,  which  must  almost  certainly  prove  falla- 
cious. But  it  does  not  follow  that  we  should  not  contem- 
plate at  large,  that  which  we  may  not  scrutinize  in  detail. 
The  point  of  wisdom  is  to  advance  as  far  as  it  may  ;  and 
there  to  stop. 

And  when  sober  conjecture  has  reached  its  limit,  let  us 
turn  the  eye  upon  the  Christian  body,  and,  with  a  much 
enhanced  solicitude,  examine  the  soundness  of  its  principles, 
its  temper,  tendency,  knowledge  :  —  in  a  word,  its  state  of 
preparation  for  that  better  day  —  a  day  of  WORSHIP  and  of 
REST,  which  many  reasons,  and  many  appearances,  con- 
cur to  indicate  as  at  hand. 

Least  of  all  should  any  (calling  themselves  Christians) 
now  feel,  and  speak,  and  act,  as  if  they  abhorred  advance- 
ment ;  or  as  if  decay  and  slumber  were  far  less  dreaded 
by  them,  than  change,  even  of  the  happy  sort.* 


*   Oorw  xou  7j  « 

Ai}£  xcu  vauayiwv  aX^o^Tai  iroXXwv. 


THE  EXPECTATION  OF  CHRISTIANS.  21 

It  were  as  rational  to  suppose  that  the  sun,  and  every 
planet  of  our  system,  might  undergo  a  vast  change  of  form 
and  constitution,  yet  leaving  the  earth  unaffected  and  un- 
altered ;  as  it  is  to  believe  that  a  general  and  simultaneous 
revolution  in  the  religious  state  of  all  nations  could  take 
place,  which  should  produce  no  reflected  and  sympathetic 
influence  upon  existing  Christian  communities. 

Let  the  fond  admirer  of  his  own  Church,  whatever  may 
be  its  pretensions,  assure  himself,  that  the  conversion  of 
Asia,  and  Africa,  and  Europe  and  America,  will  so  raise 
the  temperature — spiritual  and  moral,  of  the  world's  at- 
mosphere, as  must  dissolve,  to  its  very  elements,  every 
community  now  calling  itself  a  Church.  All  principles 
shall  then  invest  themselves  in  new  power,  all  notions  of 
good  and  evil  be  recast,  all  forms  and  constitutions  be  new 
modelled.  We  shall  indeed  believe  the  same  thing  as 
now  ;  but  in  another  manner :  we  shall  practise  the  same 
virtues,  but  at  a  different  rate,  with  firmer  motives,  and 
under  the  guidance  of  an  extended  exposition  of  every  pre- 
cept. 

Instead  therefore  of  cherishing  a  blind  attachment  to 
phrases,  modes,  usages,  opinions,  which  are  separable  from 
the  substance  of  religion,  wise  and  docile  spirits,  though 
they  may  not  hope  fully  to  anticipate,  in  imagination,  the 
changes  that  are  to  be  effected,  will  at  least  preserve  with 
care  a  state  of  feeling,rsuch  as  shall  prove  the  best  prepar- 
ative for  joining  in  with  whatever  may  attend  the  expected 
"  times  of  refreshment." 

- 


III. 

THE  COURAGE  PECULIAR  TO  TIMES  AND 
PLACES. 

"lam  not  ashamed  qfthe  Gosjiel  of  Christ." 


BY  the  believers  of  the  first  age  it  was  understood  that 
the  Gospel  should,  in  the  end,  prevail  over  all  opposition  ; 
and  that  all  nations  should  at  length  come  and  do  homage 
to  Christ.  And  yet  there  were  moments  when  the  indul- 
gence of  such  a  hope  must  have  been  difficult ;  and  when 
any  thing  must  have  seemed  probable  rather  than  the 
occurrence  of  those  events  which  were  actually  at  the  door. 
Justin  Martyr,  perhaps,  would  have  been  scarcely  less  as- 
tounded than  Antoninus,  if  both  had  together  been  told  that 
two  centuries  only  would  see  the  religion  of  Galilee — the 
religion  of  Roman  Emperors,  and  of  the  Roman  World  ! 

And  let  it  be  imagined  that  Justin,  and  the  faithful  of 
his  time,  could  have  seen  in  vision  (and  in  its  fair  colours} 
the  present  firm  establishment  of  the  faith  of  Christ ;  and 
could  have  known  that  it  should  become  the  profession  of 
all  highly-civilized  nations,  and  be  most  honoured  in  that 
country  which  was  to  take  the  lead  in  the  world,  by  extent 
of  power,  by  wealth,  by  energy,  liberty,  and  intelligence- 
In  the  midst  of  such  a  revelation  of  the  bright  futurity, 
must  not  the  martyr  have  deemed  it  a  whisper  from  the 
False  Spirit,  had  it  been  added,  that,  even  in  the  age  and 
in  the  country  of  the  greatest  triumph  of  the  Gospel,  there 
should  be  as  much  room  as  at  first,  for  the  constancy  of  its 


COURAGE  PECULIAR  TO  TIMES  AND  PLACES.    23 

champions,  in  maintaining  their  profession  ;  and  that  they, 
like  Paul,  when  he  thought  of  opening  his  ministry  at 
Rome,  should  often  have  need  to  animate  their  confidence 
by  the  declaration — "  We  are  not  ashamed  of  the  religion 
of  Christ?"  Christianity  has  very  much  ground  to  pass 
over,  and  to  conquer,  before  Christians  may  lay  aside  their 
courage.  And  if  what  is  most  important  in  their  belief 
is  to  be  spoken  of,  there  is  little  less  necessity  for  such 
firmness  of  purpose  now,  than  in  any  age  that  can  be 
named. 

The  false  shame  or  timidity  which  may  embarrass 
Christians  when  called  upon  to  profess  the  prime  parts  of 
their  belief,  will,  it  is  evident,  attach  in  very  different  de- 
grees to  different  persons  ;  or  to  the  same  persona  under 
different  circumstances,  and  in  different  places.  It  was  so 
among  the  apostles. — If  those  passages  of  the  canonical 
epistles  are  compared,  wherein  the  writers  profess  the  con- 
fidence they  felt  in  the  goodness  of  their  cause,  no  inequal- 
ity whatever  can  be  detected  in  the  degree  of  their  persua- 
sion, severally,  of  the  divine  mission  of  their  Master.  This 
is  only  what  might  be  expected  from  those  who  witnessed 
indubitable  proof  daily  of  his  power  and  glory.  Neverthe- 
less, though  the  tone  of  confidence  be  equable  and  undis- 
tinguishable  (proceed  whence  it  may)  it  has  a  specific  value 
in  some  instances,  which  does  not  belong  to  it  in  others. 
And  the  reason  of  the  difference  is  obvious  : — 

As  for  example. — The  disciple  whom  "  Jesus  loved" 
(and  we  cannot  doubt  on  account  of  a  kindred  simplicity, 
purity,  and  elevation  of  temper)  occupied  a  sphere  of  med- 
itative abstraction  which  raised  him  above  that  level  where 
faith  is  most  assaulted  : — in  an  emphatic  sense,  he  lived  on 
high,  and  looked  upon  the  things  of  earth,  as  angels  may 
look  upon  them.  It  is  altogether  in  harmony  with  this 


24  SATURDAY  K 

order  of  feeling  that  we  hear  him  calmly  (and  justly)  and 
like  a  messenger  from  heaven,  challenging  all  truth  for 
the  church  ;  and  assigning  all  error  to  the  world. — "  A\  e 
know  that  we  arc  of  God." 

The  confidence  of  Peter  is  as  entire  as  that  of  John  ; 
but  yet  of  a  somewhat  different  character.  His  native 
irresolution  had  merged  in  stronger  motives  :  yet  his  sym- 
pathy with  doubt  or  diffidence  remained  ;  and  his  closer 
contact  with  the  common  world  led  him  to  adapt  himself 
more  to  the  modes  of  thinking  of  mankind  at  large.  To 
the  Jewish  people,  and  to  their  Rulers,  he  addresses  reasons 
specifically  proper  to  the  persons  with  whom  he  had  to  do  ; 
and  the  stripes  he  received  from  the  Sanhedrim  were  the 
award  of  the  pointed  and  unanswerable  argument  he  had 
left  to  rankle  in  the  consciences  of  his  judges.  This  sort 
of  conviction,  founded  on  the  common  and  intelligible 
ground  of  external  evidence,  shews  itself  even  when  he 
writes  to  the  faithful : — "  We  have  not  followed  cunningly 
devised  fables." — And  yet  there  is  a  peculiar  species  of 
constancy  of  mind,  for  which  we  must  look  to  another  of 
the  apostles. 

Who  shall  detect,  either  in  the  public  speeches,  or  private 
correspondence,  of  Paul,  any  indication  of  secret  misgiving? 
Nothing  more  distinguishes  his  manner,  whether  in  courts 
of  justice,  or  among  his  friends,  than  the  highest  degree 
of  confidence  and  courage.  It  is  one  and  the  same  tone 
of  decision,  however  modified  by  the  specific  occasion, 
which  we  hear  from  him — at  the  tribunal  of  Roman  gov- 
ernors— in  the  circle  of  Jewish  Rabbis — in  the  heart  of  a 
frantic  rabble,  or  among  Stoics  and  Epicureans.  It  is  one 
and  the  same  style  of  absolute  conviction,  which  belongs  to 
all  the  epistles,  whether  addressed  to  churches  that  fondly 
bowed  to  his  authority  ;  or  to  those  that  factiously  opposed 


COURAGE  PECULIAR  TO  TIMES  AND  PLACES,         25 

it ; — to  his  most  intimate  associates,  or  to  the  Christian 
body  at  large.  He  is  the  same  man,  in  this  respect,  whether 
at  large  or  in  bonds  ;  whether  at  the  commencement  of  his 
apostolic  course,  or  expecting  every  day  to  seal  it  with  his 
blood.  "  Would  to  God  that  all  who  hear  me  this  day 
were  altogether  such  as  I  am  !" — "  I  speak  the  words  of 
truth  and  soberness." — "  I  know  in  whom  I  have  believed." 
"  I  a»i  ready,  not  only  to  be  bound,  but  to  die  for  the  Lord 
Jesus." — "Henceforth  there  is  laid  up  for  me  a  crown  of 
life." — "  We  are  always  confident,  and  willing  to  be  absent 
from  the  body,  that  we  may  be  present  with  the  Lord." 

And  if  always  fully  assured  of  the  certainty  of  the  mes- 
sage which  he  carried  to  the  nations,  no  peculiarity  of  cir- 
cumstances could  make  him  diffident  in  proclaiming  the 
most  obnoxious  parts  of  it.  To  some  such  circumstances 
Paul  was  alive  far  more  sensibly  than  Peter,  James,  or  John 
could  be. — The  Jewish  prejudice  against  a  humiliated  and 
suffering  Saviour,  and  a  spiritual  kingdom,  having  been  at 
length  dispelled  from  the  minds  of  the  first  companions  of 
Christ,  nothing  remained  iri  their  native  modes  of  thinking, 
which  could  give  peculiar  force  to  the  incredulity  either  of 
their  compatriots,  or  of  the  Gentile  world.  When  engaged 
in  controversy  with  the  former,  the  argument  was  a  serious 
one,  on  both  sides  ;  and  it  was  an  argument  on  the  ground 
of  principles  common  to  both  parties — namely,  the  divine 
authority  of  the  existing  Scriptures.  They  urged  the  tes- 
timony of  the  prophets,  upon  those  who  reverenced  the 
prophets. — The  Jew,  how  corrupt  soever  in  life  or  doctrine, 
Was  still  a  religionist ; — he  understood  the  terms  of  the 
Christian  argument,  was  familiar  with  its  modes  of  reason- 
ing, and  especially  he  held  no  philosophical  notion  which 
repudiated  the  supposition  of  a  miraculous  attestation  of 
religious  doctrines.  This  is  a  sort  of  contest  which  does 

4 


26  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

not  in  the  moat  severe  degree  try  the.  constancy  of  the  mind. 
— Let  but  our  antagonist  be  serious  as  ourselves,  and  we 
need  not  care,  though  lie  be  infuriate. 

And  in  another  manner,  even  by  their  simplicity  and 
their  want  of  erudition,  the  men  of  Galilee  wore  well-armed 
to  encounter  whatever  they  might  meet  with  abroad,  in 
the  polytheistic  woild.     Beside  their  miraculous  powers, 
and  the  Divine  teaching  they  enjoyed,  they  carried  ft>rlh 
the  great  truths  of  the  Natural  and  Moral  attributes  of  God, 
and  the  hope  of  immortality,  and  the  maxims  of  virtue, 
among  nations  whose  capital  errors  on  all  these  points 
placed  all — learned  or  barbarous,  on  one  and  the  same  level 
in  their  view.     To  them  the  Athenian  was  as  the  Scyth- 
ian— a  worshipper  "  of  stocks." — Was  the  difference  be- 
tween  one  idol  and  another,  in  its  fashion,  a  matter  of  any 
moment  ? — Not  now  to  speak  specifically  of  the  Christian 
teachers — the  Jew  of  that  age,  by  his  conscious  possession 
of  the  most  important  truths,  and  by  his  want  of  refine- 
ment, and  taste,  and  philosophic  sophistication,  stood  in  the 
most  favourable  position  for  lobking  down  with  just  and 
undistinguishing  contempt  upon  all  forms  of  idolatry. — It 
is  well  sometimes  to  be  insensible  of  diversities  which,  if 
discerned,  are  more  likely  to  confuse  our  perceptions  of 
some  essential  difference,  than  to  aid  our  decision.     To  the 
devout  Jew,  one  sculptured  folly  was  like  another — neither 
more  nor  less  offensive,  on  account  of  its  workmanship. 
What  was.  the  chisel  of  Phidias,  what  the  pencil  of  Apelles, 
to  the  men  who  had  been  taught  to  adore  the  Living  and 
True  God?  Apollo  was  as  Dagon  ; — the  temples  of  Greece, 
89  the  pagodas  of  India. 

We  must  not  deny  that  the  wrant  of  knowledge  is  a  dis- 
paragement, lest  we  seem  to  take  part  with  the  despotic  ad- 
vocates of  ignorance.  Nevertheless  it  must  be  admitted 


COURAGE  PECULIAR  TO  TIMES  AND  PLACES.    2T 

that  on  special  occasions,  when  the  most  momentous 
truths  have  to  be  manfully  asserted  in  opposition  to  splen- 
did and  erudite  errors,  there  may  be  an  advantage  in  that 
sort  of  rude  or  blunt  force  which  deprives  specious  sophistry 
of  all  its  power  over  the  imagination.  Plain  and  insensi- 
tive vigour  of  mind  may  perhaps  trample  heedlessly  on 
some  things  which  deserved  a  measure  of  respect ;  but  it 
takes  the  right  course — reaches  an  impregnable  position, 
and  leaves  a  host  of  frivolous  sophisms  in  the  rear — pow- 
erless, though  un refuted.  Thus  it  was,  in  a  still  stronger 
sense,  with  the  men  of  Galilee ;  for  beside  their  national 
advantage,  as  Jews,  and  the  unblemished  simplicity  of  their 
understanding,  they  knew  and  felt,  far  better  than  did  the 
doctors  of  the  Sanhedrim,  the  infinite  disparity  of  true  and 
false  religion.  On  the  banks  of  the  Tiber,  or  of  the  Tigris, 
of  the  Indus,  or  the  Nile — the  Gospel  of  Christ  was  always 
their  glory  ;  and  they  saw  nothing  in  the  world  which,  by 
comparison,  could  for  a  moment  make  them  ashamed  of  it. 
There  was  somewhat  more  implied  when  Paul,  medi- 
tating a  journey  to  Piomo,  declared  that  "  he  was  not 
ashamed"  of  the  same  doctrine.  His  possession  of  miracu- 
lous powers  did  not  nullify  the  natural  influence  of  his  ori- 
ginal habits  of  thinking,  or  of  his  education.  The  human 
mind  is  so  constituted  as  to  admit  freely  the  play  of  inde- 
pendent and  conflicting  motives,  even  if  it  obeys  always 
the  one  motive  that  is  paramount.  And  high  culture  much 
increases  the  susceptibility  of  the  mind  towards  diverse  or 
contradictory  impulses ;  so  that  wrhile  the  uninstructed, 
when  borne  onward  by  a  ruling  principle,  forget  all  secon- 
dary considerations  ;  the  more  intelligent,  though  not  less 
steady  and  consistent  in  action  (perhaps  more  so,)  yet  con- 
tinue to  hold  converse  with  reasons  they  have  repudiated  ; 
and  to  traverse  again  and  again  the  ground  of  their  firmest 


28  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

convictions. — the  more  mind — the  more  compass  of  motive. 

And  can  we  read  the  speeches  recorded  by  Luke,  or  the 
fourteen  epistles  of  our  canon,  and  doubt  whether  Paul 
were  open  to  the  influence  of  a  world  of  things  of  which 
his  colleagues  were  quite  insensible  ?  His  general  ac- 
quaintance with  human  affairs,  his  familiarity  with  Greek 
literature  and  philosophy,  his  military  habits,  his  know- 
ledge of  the  arts  of  sculpture  and  painting ;  beside  his  native 
sensibility,  and  prompt  discernment  of  the  nicer  proprieties 
of  time,  and  place,  and  occasion,  would  altogether  leave 
him  unconscious  of  hardly  any  of  the  emotions  that  distin- 
guish highly  cultivated  minds— probably  of  none. 

A  point  of  comparison,  on  this  ground,  between  Paul 
and  some  of  his  countrymen,  deserves  to  be  noted.  It  is 
well  known  that  not  a  few  of  the  Hebrew  nation,  from  the 
age  of  the  Macedonian  conquests,  and  during  the  course  of 
the  four  following  centuries,  ambitiously  addicted  them- 
selves to  Grecian  literature  ;  and  in  this  ambiguous  course 
advanced  as  far  towards  a  treasonable  admiration  of  poly- 
theistic philosophy,  poetry,  and  art,  as  could  well  consist 
with  their  professed  attachment  to  the  national  faith. 
Some  went  further  than  this  limit.  Scattered  indications 
of  the  incongruous  mixtures  of  opinions  which  thence  re- 
sulted, are  to  be  found — in  some  allusions  of  the  New  Tes- 
tament— in  the  apocryphal  books,  and  in  the  Rabbinical 
commentaries.  But  evidence  to  the  same  purport,  and 
more  at  large,  is  presented  in  the  writings  of  the  Jewish 
philosopher  of  Alexandria,  and  of  the  Jewish  courtier  of 
Jerusalem. — Philo  and  Josephus  show  us,  in  their  several 
modes,  what  a  Jew  became  when  he  would  be  more  than 
a  Jew  ; — or  in  a  word,  what  was  the  ax£o/3uavia  of  the  Hel- 
lenists. 

But  it  is  observable  in  all  these  instances,  whether  full 


COURAGE  PECULIAR  TO  TIMES  AND  PLACES.    29 

or  scanty,  that  the  superinduction  of  Grecian  modes  of 
thinking  upon  the  Hebrew  mind  was,  to  the  whole  extent 
of  it,  a  corruption  of  faith — an  abandonment,  or  an  abate- 
ment of  the  proper  Jewish  spirit ; — Moses  was  dishonoured, 
so  far  as  Plato  was  admired.  Philosophy  held  a  place 
furtively  in  the  mind  of  the  Rabbi,  and  did  him  no  service. 
In  fact,  no  schooling  could  make  the  Jew  a  Greek,  either 
as  sage,  rhetorician,  or  man  of  taste  ;  or  only  so  far  as  it 
made  him,  a  secret  unbeliever,  or  an  apostate.  Philo  ig 
but  an  Alexandrian  Rabbi,  and  a  barbarian  philosopher. 
— Josephus,  little  better  than  a  renegade. 

Paul  of  Tarsus  affords  an  instance  of  another  sort.  He 
was  as  well  read  as  Philo ;  almost  as  much  conversant 
with  active  life  as  Josephus  ; — he  was  a  reader  of  the  Greek 
drama,  and  a  great  master  of  that  mental  management 
which  then  was  to  be  learned  only  within  the  circle  of  Gre- 
cian dialectics  and  rhetoric.  Nevertheless  he  remains  most 
completely  national  in  his  mode  of  thinking,  and  his  phra- 
seology :  it  was  at  the  feet  of  Gamaliel  that  he  sat,  though 
he  learned  lessons  elsewhere. — There  is  no  alien  spirit — 
no  shrinking  from  Moses,  no  blending  of  things  incompa- 
tible, no  affectation  of  doctrines  more  enlarged  and  liberal, 
or  more  refined,  than  were  taught  by  the  prophets,  in  the 
writings  of  Paul. — He  is  not  now  the  Jew,  now  the  Chris- 
tian, now  the  sophist ;  but  always  both  Jew  and  Chris- 
tian ;  and  as  fully  so  as  Peter,  or  as  James. 

Besides  possessing  more  native  ingenuousness  and  vigour 
of  mind  than  those  of  his  countrymen  to  whom  we  have 
just  referred,  so  that  he  was  free  from  the  affectation  and 
obsequiousness  that  belong  to  them,  St.  Paul  grasped,  in 
a  much  firmer  manner  than  they,  the  vital  principles  which 
were  the  glory  of  the  Jewish  people.  Even  as  a  Jew,  and 
still  more  as  a  Christian,  he  was  better  qualified  than  they 

4* 


30  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

to  estimate  justly  the  intrinsic  value  of  Grecian  philosophy 
and  refinement.  He  knew  how  to  strike  the  balance  of 
merit  between  Plato,  or  Pindar,  or  Memander,  and  David 
or  Isaiah.  He  neither  repudiated  the  Grecian  literature 
with  a  rude  fanatical  arrogance,  because  it  >vaa  at  fault  in 
matters  of  religion ;  nor  laboured  to  deck  himself  in  its 
flowers,  at  the  cost  of  consistency  :  but  while  he  adhered, 
in  spirit  and  letter — in  form  and  substance,  to  that  fashion 
of  thought  and  language  which  the  divine  oracles  had  set, 
did  not  scruple  to  avail  himself  of  whatever  aid  might  fairly 
be  drawn  from  a  foreign  source. 

Paul  had  seen  nothing  among  the  Greeks  which  com- 
pelled him  to  be  ashamed  of  the  prophets :  and  it  may 
even  be  imagined  that,  had  he  not  embraced  Christianity, 
his  zeal  and  intelligence,  and  his  singular  power  of  adap- 
ting himself  to  the  notions  and  tastes  of  men  of  all  classes, 
might  have  led  him  to  plead  the  cause  of  his  national  lit- 
erature with  the  Greeks.  His  eloquence,  his  ingenuity, 
and  the  intrinsic  soundness  of  his  argument,  might  (it  ia 
not  improbable)  have  secured  to  him  some  signal  success 
in  such  an  attempt ;  or  at  least  a  blaze  of  reputation. 

And  the  attempt  would  have  been  a  noble  one  ;  but  the 
Lord  had  "  set  him  apart"  to  a  task  far  more  noble,  far 
more  perilous,  and  far  more  mortifying. — To  preach  "  re- 
pentance and  forgiveness  of  sin"  through  faith  in  the  pro- 
pitiatory death  of  Jesus  ;  and  to  preach  this  doctrine  in  the 
Grecian  cities,  and  among  the  schools  of  learning,  this  was 
the  part  assigned  to  Paul.  And  in  discharging  it,  he  must 
have  felt,  in  all  its  force,  the  contempt  that  covered  him  as 
a  promulgator  of  such  a  dogma  ; — he  felt  this  obloquy  as 
his  colleagues  could  not.  Not  only  in  the  single  instance 
recorded  by  his  biographer,  but  no  doubt  often  in  his  circuit 
through  Greece,  and  its  colonies,  he  stood  surrounded  by 


COURAGE  PECULIAR  TO  TIMES  AND  PLACES.    31 

the  sarcastic  curiosity  of  Stoics,  Epicureans,  and  Acade- 
micians. He  knew,  on  such  occasions,  in  what  spirit  he 
was  listened  to,  as  a  busy  and  babbling  zealot  of  the  Jewish 
superstition.  He  could  penetrate — nay,  he  could  feel  a 
sympathy  with  the  erudite  scorn  of  his  auditors  :  he  un- 
derstood the  sentiment  with  which  men  of  high  culture 
give  ear,  for  a  moment,  to  a  tale  of  wonder  which  they 
have  condemned  as  absurd,  before  it  is  commenced.  In 
the  oblique  glance  of  the  half-closed  eye,  in  the  sneer  that 
played  on  the  lip,  he  read  the  rnind  and  the  malice  of  every 
sophist.  He  could  mentally  change  positions  with  his  au- 
ditors, and  at  the  moment  white  uttering  the  "  strange 
things"  of  the  Gospel,  could  feel  as  they  felt — the  harsh 
and  abhorrent  character,  both  of  the  principles,  and  of  the 
facts,  which  he  had  to  announce — Jesus,  the  Galilean 
teacher — crucified — raised  to  life — constituted  Lord  and 
Judge  .of  men,  and  now  giving  repentance  for  remission  of 
sins.  This  was  his  burden,  at  Antioch,  at  Ephesus,  at 
Nicopolis,  at  Corinth,  and  at  Athens  ! 

And  yet  there  awaited  him,  what  perhaps  must  be 
deemed  even  a  still  more  severe  trial  of  his  constancy : 
for  he  bore  a  commission  to  preach  the  Gospel — at  "  Rome- 
also."  A  man  of  cultured  mind,  whatever  special  disad- 
vantage he  may  happen  to  labour  under,  nevertheless  feels 
that,  among  men  of  his  own  order,  he  can  occupy  a  com- 
mon ground,  on  which  to  gain  the  respect,  if  not  the  as- 
sent, of  his  hearers.  On  that  ground  he  may  be  sure  to 
put  flippant  scorn  to  the  blush.  There  is  a  sympathy 
among  men  addicted  to  intellectual  pursuits,  of  which  any 
one  who  is  truly  entitled  to  do  so,  may  powerfully  avail 
himself.  But  no  such  advantage  can  be  looked  for  within 
the  circle  where  wealth  and  sumptuous  splendour  are  in 
far  higher  esteem  than  learning  or  philosophy  ;  and  where 


32  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

the  arrogance  of  military  and  civil  rule  crush  every  preten- 
sion that  might  dispute  honour  with  their  own.  The  proud 
and  luxurious  metropolis  of  universal  empire  was  the  place 
where,  most  of  all,  a  man  of  intelligence  would  feel  his 
immense  disadvantage,  in  having  to  broach  a  doctrine 
such  as  Christianity  must  have  seemed  at  Rome — in  the 
age  of  Nero. 

And  yet  not  at  Rome,  any  more  than  at  Athens,  was 
Paul  ashamed  of  the  Gospel  of  Christ.  On  the  contrary, 
he  "  spoke  the  word  with  all  boldness,"  even  "  in  the 
palace  :"  and  the  fruits  of  his  constancy  were  shown  to  the 
world  in  that  black  night,  when  the  imperial  gardens  blazed 
with  the  torments  of  a  crowd  of  the  adherents  of  the  Gos- 
pel : — the  first-fruits  of  martyrdom,  offered  to  the  gods  by 
a  fit  minister  of  such  divinities  ;  and  an  earnest  of  the  un- 
sparing oblations  with  which  Rome — pagan  and  popish, 
should,  through  a  long  course  of  ages,  propitiate  infernal 
powers  ! 

But  what  relation  does  this. comparison  between  the  con- 
stancy of  Paul  and  that  of  his  colleagues  bear  to  the  posi- 
tion, or  the  conduct  of  Christians  in  our  own  age  and 
country? — We  think  one  that  is  significant,  and  in  some 
sense  exact. 

At  certain  eras  the  purity  and  lustre  of  the  evangelic 
doctrine — the  glorious  truth  of  remission  of  sins  through 
faith  in  Christ,  has  been  in  the  hands,  almost  exclusively, 
of  men  of  the  simplest  order  ;  of  men  who,  in  mental  qual- 
ities, and  in  want  of  culture,  and  in  rude  ingenuousness 
of  Spirit,  might  not  improperly  be  deemed  the  very  succes- 
sors and  representatives  of  the  Galilean  teachers.  To  such 
the  world  was  the  WORLD— whether  erudite  or  barbarous  ; 
and  the  full  confidence  they  felt  in  the  goodness  and  divine 
reality  of  their  cause,  was  never  troubled  by  a  misgiving 


COURAGE  PECULIAR  TO  TIMES  AND  PLACES.  33 

recollection,  that  all  the  intelligence,  and  refinement,  and 
knowledge  of  mankind,  stood  in  array  against  them. 
Such  men,  though  they  reached  their  conclusion  as  if  by 
a  leap  over  the  ground,  nevertheless  came  to  a.  just  con- 
clusion, That,  the  wisdom  of  the  world,  when  opposed  to 
the  doctrine  of  Christ,  is  essential  folly.  They  were  not 
ashamed  of  this  doctrine  therefore,  even  when  philosophy, 
and  elegance,  and  titles  and  honours,  were  combined 
against  it. 

Although  there  may  be  found  among  us  now  (in  corners) 
persons  of  this  same  class  (ingenuous,  illiterate,  and  fervent) 
whose  courage  in  matters  of  religion  costs  them  no  extra- 
ordinary effort ;  the  great  body  of  Christians,  in  our  age 
and  country,  would  be  very  improperly  described  in  any  such 
terms ;  for  they  have  neither  the  same  merits,  nor  the 
same  defects.  The  religious  classes  have  admitted  and 
imbibed  just  that  degree  of  general  intelligence,  which,  by 
laying  them  open  to  all  influeuces,  puts  to  the  severest 
proof  the  integrity  and  simplicity  of  their  spirit,  as  messen- 
gers of  the  mercy  of  God  to  mankind.  We  say — just  that 
degree  of  intelligence.  For  it  must  not  be  affirmed  (after 
a  very  few  instances  are  excepted)  that  the  accomplish- 
ments and  mental  power  of  the  religious  hody,  or  of  its 
leaders,  are  so  fairly  on  a  par  with  the  learning  and  science 
of  the  times,  as  to  leave  no  room  for  the  consciousness  of 
inferiority. 

It  is  not  with  us  now,  as  it  was  in  the  age  of  the  Re- 
formation, when  the  champions  of  the  Gospel  were  men  of 
gigantic  understanding,  and  of  unrivalled  attainments  ; 
men  who  had  no  competitors  or  rivals  to  fear,  in  any  walk 
of  learning  ;  men  who  ruled  the  philosophy,  as  well  as  the 
religion,  of  their  times.  Nor  is  it  as  it  was  in  the  age  of 
Jerom,  and  Augustine,  and  Ambrose,  and  Gregory,  and 


34  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

Chrygostom,  when  the  Church  moved  foremost  on  all 
grounds  of  honour  and  merit ;  and  when  pagan  philoso- 
phy had  scarcely  a  laurel  left  on  its  brow. 

We  stand  midway  between  the  advantageous  post  of 
rude  ingenuous  fervour,  and  that  of  zeal  or  unrivalled 
eminence  in  matters  of  science  and  learning.  But  a  mid- 
dle position  is  one  of  jeopardy,  incertitude,  timidity.  By 
all  the  amount  of  our  actual  intelligence,  \vefeel  the  offence 
of  the  Cross ;  and  yet  our  intelligence  reaches  not  the  point 
which  should  set  us  free  from  anxiety  in  maintaining  our 
profession. 


IV. 
LAXITY  AND  DECISION. 

That  1  may  make  manifest  the  Ministry  of  Christ,  as  lougtit  to  speak." 


NOTHING  would  be  more  calumnious  than  to  say  that 
the  principal  articles  of  Christian  belief  are  not  now  (and 
ia  very  many  quarters)  clearly,  ably,  and  faithfully  an- 
nounced. There  is  no  room  for  any  such  allegation  or  com- 
plaint. On  the  contrary,  in  a  multitude  of  instances,  how 
much  soever  we  may  be  perplexed  by  the  paucity  of  the 
fruits,  we  should  be  quite  unable  to  assign  any  considerable 
defect  as  the  probable  cause  of  the  want  of  greater  success. 

This  being  fully  granted,  there  should  be  noted  (and 
the  juniors  of  a  clerical  order  should  especially  observe  it) 
a  cause  of  abatement  which,  in  a  greater  or  less  degree, 
very  sensibly  produces  its  effect  within  the  circle  of  what  is 
termed  evangelical  ministrations.  It  is  the  reflected  in- 
fluence of  that  middle  rate  of  intelligence  to  which  allusion 
has  already  been  made. — The  Preacher  of  our  day  has 
advanced  several  steps  beyond  the  position  of  his  predeces- 
sor ;  and  his  hearers  have  advanced  also.  They  laudably 
wish  for  diversified  instructions  ;  and  he  naturally  desires 
to  meet  and  satisfy  this  wish. — While  therefore  he  adheres 
with  care  to  the  accredited  system  of  Christian  truth  ;  and 
always  speaks  of  the  chief  points  of  divinity  as  c/tze/and 
of  the  subordinate  as  subordinate,  and  is  uin  doctrine 
uncorrupt ; — while  all  this  may  be  said,  and  every  ground 
of  just  exception  seems  to  be  excluded,  the  actual  result — 


•to  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

shall  we  say  the  gross  amount  of  his  public  labours,  ^ 
ilu>  proportion  of  not  more  than  one  to  ten,  to  the  prime 
truth  of  the  Scriptures.  The  glory  of  Christ,  a-  Saviour 
of  men,  which  should  be  always  as  the  sun  in  the  heavens, 
shines  only  with  an  astral  lustre  ; — or  as  one  light  among 
others.  This  is  a  natural,  though  indirect,  consequence 
of  the  intellectual  progress  which  the  religious  community 
has  made. 

The  mode  of  preaching  that  has  been  affectedly  termed 
— the  intellectual,  will  hardly  be  made  to  consist  with  a 
bold,  simple,  and  cordial  proclamation  of  the  message  of 
mercy.  Its  intention  is  not  the  same  ;  its  means  are  not 
the- same  :  and  the  fruit  of  it  will  be — obtuse. indifference 
in  relation  to  the  most  affecting  objects  of  Christian  faith. 
The  tendency,  at  the  present  moment,  towards  intelligent 
frigidity  is  a  grave  matter,  and  one  especially  which  should 
lead  to  a  consideration  of  our  several  systems  of  clerical 
initiation.  The  cause  of  so  great  a  practical  error  should 
be  known,  if  it  be  true;  that  numbers  of  those  who  come 
forth  upon  the  church  as  candidates  for  the  Christian  min- 
istry, are  fraught  with  all  qualifications,  and  all  acquire- 
ments— rather  than  fervour  and  simplicity  in  proclaiming 
the  glad  tidings  of  life. 

There  should  here  be  memtioned  an  unhappy  conse- 
quence that  has  flowed  from  the  natural  but  very  ill-judged 
ambition  of  young  and  aspiring  preachers  to  follow  the 
train  of  thought,  and  to  imitate  the  style,  of  certain 
eminent  religious  writers.  Now  besides  that  imitation  is 
a  disparagement,  and  a  degradation,  in  a  Christian  minister, 
especially  if  it  springs  from  a  motive  of  vanity  :  is  it  not 
evident  that  the  pulpit  and  the  press  ought  to  fill  different 
spheres  ?  The  writer  forfeits  his  proper  advantage  if  he 
does  nothing  more  than — preach  in  print :  and  the  preacher 


LAXITY  AND  DECISION.  37 

forgets  all  tHat  is  serious  and  momentous  in  his  office, 
when  he  utters  from  the  pulpit,  that  which,  to  produce  its 
due  effect,  must  be  spread  before  the  eye,  and  which  there- 
fore, when  listened  to,  will  not  move  the  conscience.  A 
religious  writer  may  very  properly  (nay  he  ought  to  do  so) 
select  subjects,  and  pursue  a  line  of  thought,  and  employ 
a  style,  all  of  which  are  unsuited  to  the  ears  of  a  promis- 
cuous assembly.  Well  would  it  be  if,  on  the  one  hand, 
our  writers  ^would  always  set  themselves  a  task  more 
specific,  and  more  difficult  too,  than  that  of  printing  pulpit 
exercises ;  and  on  the  other,  if  our  preachers  would  cherish 
an  ambition  far  more  becoming  to  them,  and  more  truly 
noble,  than  that  of  being  esteemed  masters  of  an  elaborate 
style. 

Do  we  then  make  void  the  utility  of  mental  acquire- 
ments and  intellectual  power  in  the  preacher  of  the 
Gospel  ? — Nay  rather,  we  establish  the  necessity  of  both'. — 
The  advancement  of  the  people  generally,  in  knowledge, 
demands  that  their  teachers  should  move  on  at  least  at  an 
equal  rate.  But  danger — danger  to  the  simplicity  of  the 
spirit,  springs  from  that  meagerness  of  attainment,  and 
that  slenderness  in  the  mode  of  thinking,  which  lead  the 
mind  to  employ  itself  on  secondary  matters,  and  which 
especially  compel  it  to  spread  out  scanty  materials  over  as 
broad  a  surface  as  possible.  There  is  a  natural  process  in 
the  world  of  mind  of  which  men,  whose  engagements  are 
intellectual,  should  always  be  aware.  The  initial  part  of 
this  process  consists  in  the  expansion — we  might  say,  the 
scattering  of  the  faculties  over  a  wide  field,  while  new  ideas 
from  a  thousand  sources  are  daily  coming  in.  The 
after-part,  which  is  properly  the  maturing  of  the  mind  is, 
in  its  method,  the  reverse  of  the  first : — it  is  the  process  of 
concentration,  of  condensation  : — it  is  the  bringing  of  all 

5 


38  SATURDAY"  EVENING. 

materials,  and  of  all  faculties,  to  a  point,  upon  that  one 
principal  matter  which  has  been  already  chosen  as  the 
worthy  object  of  the  man's  most  energetic  devotion.  In 
this  finishing  of  a  man  for  his  work,  it  may  seem  as  if  the 
mental  dimensions  he  had  just  reached  were  contracting ; 
as  if  he  were  drawing  back  from  the  ground  he  had  occu- 
pied ;  as  if  he  were  resigning  what  yesterday  he  eagerly 
grasped.  But  it  is  not  so.  The  spirit  is  only  gathering 
itself  up  to  act. 

Now  if  this  process  be  arrested  just  at  the  juncture  of  the 
initial  and  the  conclusive  part,  the  consequence  is  a  loss  of 
the  special  advantage  of  rude  and  simple  fervour,  and  na- 
tive force,  without  the  compensation  which  more  progress 
would  have  secured.  If  the  young  preacher  steps  into 
the  pulpit  at  the  very  moment  when  all  the  blooming 
petals  of  the  mind  have  spread  themselves  out  to  the 
utmost,  to  greet  light  and  air,  and  if  the  scorching  beams 
of  public  life  wither  the  blossom,  the  germ  falls  to  the 
ground. 

No  man  of  mature  understanding,  who  has  seriously 
fixed  himself  in  the  great  purpose  of  devoting  all  the  force 
he  possesses  to  the  work  of  the  Gospel,  will  think  that  any 
kind  of  knowledge  he  may  have  acquired,  or  any  species  of 
mental  labour  to  which  he  may  have  become  familiar,  is 
solutely  unavailable  for  promoting  his  design.  There  is 
nothing  extrinsic  or  foreign  in  literature,  or  science,  there 
is  nothing  difficult  or  profound  in  the  region  of  abstruse 
philosophy,  there  is  no  habit  of  meditation  or  of  abstraction, 
which  he  will  look  upon  as  worthless,  in  relation  to  the 
arduous  and  all-comprehensive  work  of  leading  the  spirits 
of  men  into  the  path  of  truth.  But  then  there  are  none 
of  these  acquirements,  none  of  these  practised  faculties, 
that  he  will  for  a  moment  regard  in  any  other  light, 


LAXITY  AND  DECISION.  39 

than  as  a  means  to  the  end  which  his  soul  has  embraced. 
To  give  honour  to  the  Saviour  of  the  world,  and  to  lead 
to  the*arms  of  Mercy  the  lost,  is  the  work  he  has  put  his 
hand  to  ;  and  he  can  please  himself  in  nothing,  but  suc- 
cess in  this  great  endeavour. 

We  are  not  then  afraid  lest  the  Gospel  should  be  spoiled 
by  learning  and  intelligence ;  but  we  desire  that  both 
should  be  concentrated  upon,  and  devoted  to  the  one  wor- 
thy enterprise  which  the  Christian  Ministry  has  in  veiw. 

It  may  seem  to  some  persons  that,  if  a  question  is  enter- 
tained relative  to  the  supposed  abatement,  at  the  present 
moment,  of  the  evangelic  function,  a  prominent  place 
ought  to  be  given  to  the  influence — open  or  concealed,  of 
the  heresy  which  directly  oppugns  the  doctrines  of  the  Gos- 
pel. This  would  have  been  proper  forty  years  ago  :  but 
not  now.  There  was  indeed  a  time  (not  yet  forgotten)  of 
faintness  in  the  evangelical  bodies : — there  was  a  time 
when  a  heavy  mist,  charged  with  death,  hung  over  many 
quarters  of  the  Christian  world  ;  when  not  a  few  whose 
lips  still  uttered  "  right  things,"  were  shaken  in  soul ;  or 
had  quite  lost  all  inward  sense  and  feeling  of  the  truth. 

But  this  season  has  passed  away : — the  victims  of  the 
infection  have  either  fallen  from  their  places,  or  been  re- 
stored to  life.  And  if  it  were  asked  how  far  the  Socinian 
error  now  checks  the  promulgation  and  progress  of  the 
Gospel,  it  would  be  impossible  to  make  so  small  a  matter 
palpable  in  our  reply.  To  affirm  that  the  great  principles 
of  Religion  are  at  present  endangered  by  the  feeble  and 
expiring  remains  of  Socinianism,  were  much  the  same 
as  to  say  that  the  throne  and  constitution  of  Britian  are 
in  jeopardy  by  the  lurking  attachment  of  the  people  to  the 
house  of  Stuart !  Socinianism  no  more  makes  us  afraid 
for  our  religion,  than  Jacobinism  does  for  our  liberties. 


40  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

The  contrary  is  the  fact. — we  are  strengthened  by  the 
puny  heresy  that  yet  gasps,  here  and  there,  about  us. — 
The  modern  history — the  fate,  and  the  present  f  actual 
condition  of  the  doctrine,  absurdly  called  Unitarianism,  is 
quite  enough  to  convince  any  man  of  sense  that  the  scep- 
tical argument  is  a  mere  sophism,  even  if  he  knew  nothing 
of  the  merits  of  the  question.  And  this  edifying  history, 
and  spectacle,  does  in  fact  produce  a  proper  effect  upon  the 
minds  of  men,  and  does  actually  seal  the  theological  argu- 
ment, as  it  ought.  Is  Unitarianism  Christianity  ? — Read 
the  story  of  its  rise  in  modern  times,  of  its  progress,  and 
decay,  and  look  at  the  meager  phantom  as  now  it  haunts 
the  dry  places  it  has  retired  to ! — is  this  pitiful  shadow 
Christianity  ? 

It  might  be  well  if  certain  valiant  persons  among  us 
could  find  more  profitable  employment  than  that  of  hunt- 
ing a  spectre  ! 

Our  dangers  are  of  another  sort.  The  long-continued 
tranquility  which  notwithstanding  the  rage  of  war  and 
anarchy  around  us,  the  British  Islands  have  enjoyed  ;  and 
the  exemption  of  all  parties  from  the  fact  or  the  fear  of 
persecution,  and  the  peculiar  temper  also,  which  belongs  to 
highly-stimulated  commercial  habits,  have  together  pro- 
duced upon  our  Christian  character  a  settled  indisposition 
to  give  way  to  deep  or  powerful  emotions  of  any  kind. — 
We  are  indeed  fond  of  excitement ;  but  in  the  same  degree 
are  afraid  of  agitation.  The  strong  workings  of  the  prime 
emotions  of  the  soul  we  greatly  dread.  If  we  feel  more 
than  may  just  serve  to  give  animation  to  a  public  assembly, 
we  know  not  whither  we  shall  be  carried.  If  we  were  to 
allow  ourselves  to  fall  back  upon  serious  convictions,  we 
might  be  led  so  to  act  and  speak  as  would  break  in  upon 
the  conventional  serenity  of  the  circle  in  which  we  move. 


LAXITY  AND  DECISION.  41 

The  surface  of  the  waters  may  be  rippled  ;  but  it  must 
not  be  tossed  with  winds  and  waves ! 

A  different  order  of  things  around  us  would  presently 
bring  into  play  the  powerful  and  irresistible  elements  of 
the  moral  life.  Events  may  be  imagined  which  would 
mar  our  levity — disturb  our  complacency,  and  break  up 
the  polished  surface  which  reflects  our  ease.  Events  may 
easily  be  thought  of  which  would  lead  us  home  to  the  first 
principles  of  the  Gospel,  and  quite  sicken  our  taste  of 
every  thing  but  those  principles.  Private  troubles  and 
common  griefs,  how  heavy  soever,  by  no  means  affect  us 
in  the  same  way,  or  to  the  same  extent,  as  public  calam- 
ities. The  imagination  is  much  concerned  in  the  effect 
which  the  idea  of  danger  or  suffering  produces  on  the  mind  ; 
and  so  it  is  that,  although  the  cloud  that  rests  over  our 
single  habitation  may  actually  be  more  dense  than  the 
gloom  which  covers  all  the  skies  (hiding  hope  and  peace 
from  nations)  yet  it  is  this  general  gloom,  more  than  the 
partial  storm,  that  avails  to  dispel  the  frivolity  of  the  hu- 
man spirit,  and  teaches  a  solemn  fear  of  the  Divine  dis- 
pleasure. And  it  is  under  such  an  impression  that  the 
Gospel  will  assume  its  just  dimensions  in  our  sight.  How 
soon  may  the  glad  tidings  of  mercy  be  listened  to  with  a 
new  and  genuine  joy,  amid  the  loud  peals  of  some  wide- 
spreading  judgment ! 

For  the  possible  occurrence  of  such  a  season  of  profound 
and  powerful  emotions,  all  Christians  should  prepare  them- 
selves. Apart  from  any  actual  indications  of  its  approach 
(and  which  the  forbearance  of  God  may  yet  turn  aside)  it 
would  not  seem  highly  improbable,  if  we  look  to  what 
has  been  the  ordinary  series  of  events  in  the  history  of 
Christian  nations,  that  the  inert  elements  of  piety  among 
us  are  ere  long  to  be  set  at  work  in  a  more  powerful  man- 

5* 


42  SATURDAY   EVENING. 

ner  than  heretofore,  not  merely  by  an  extraordinary  effusion 
of  the  Spirit  of  Grace,  but  by  the  operation  of  unusual  ex- 
ternal causes.  If  there  be  a  disposition  in  some  minds  to 
catch  at  every  portentous  circumstance,  and  to  make  it  the 
ground  of  an  appalling  prediction,  there  is  also  a  disposi- 
tion in  others  to  clpse  the  ear  against  those  precursive 
murmurs  of  the  anger  of  Heaven  which  ordinarily  give  no- 
tice of  the  approach  of  its  judgments.  A  caution  should 
be  entertained,  as  well  against  the  levity  of  the  one  party, 
as  against  the  superstition  of  the  other.  Meanwhile  it  is  a 
plain  and  simple  matter  that,  whatever  measures  we 
should  deem  imperatively  necessary  if  certainly  forewarned 
of  impending  calamities,  are  not  the  less  proper,  because 
our  actual  forewarning  amounts  only  to  the  appearance  of 
an  ominous  concurrence  of  events. 

Who  will  deny  that,  at  this  moment,  there  is  signally 
needed  some  extraordinary  .effort  on  behalf  of  the  outcast 
thousands  of  the  people,  whom  we  have  culpably  suffered 
to  grow  up  in  the  heart  of  our  Christian  land,  more  profli- 
gate and  more  perverted  than  Hindoos  ?  The  exigency  of 
the  time  calls  for  a  disregard  of  every  puny  scruple,  of 
every  jealousy,  of  all  ecclesiastical  reluctances,  and  of  all 
sinister  views.  The  dense  masses  of  our  atheistic  and 
much-degraded,  as  well  as  miserable  population,  should  be 
assailed  and  courageously  entered,  by  men  thinking  of 
nothing  but  how  they  may  turn  the  impenitent  from  the 
error  of  his  way.  If  ever  it  be  wise  and  manly  to  sacrifice 
the  less  to  the  greater,  would  it  not  now  be  wise  and 
christian-like  to  break  through  ordinary  and  petty  obsta- 
cles, and  to  contemn  frigid  calculations ;  rather  than  that 
two,  or  more,  millions  of  the  people  should  longer  be  left 
as  they  are — utterly  destitute  of  religious  knowledge,  and 


UX1TV  AND  DECISION.  43 

of  every  hope  ?  If  certain  personages  ave  reluctant  to  as- 
sign this  work  of  popular  evangelization  to  the  alledged 
indiscreet  zeal  of  sectarists — the  path  is  open  to  them- 
selves; the  crowded  streets  of  our  great  towns  are  not  barred : 
and  how  noble  a  spectacle  would  it  be,  to  see  men  of  the 
highest  order,  the  SUCCESSORS  OF  THE  APOSTLES,  support- 
ed by  their  colleagues  of  all  ranks,  mingling  kindly  with 
the  people,  and  inviting  the  wretched  to  accept  the  con- 
solations of  the  Gospel !  Are  precedents  wanted  to  jus- 
tify so  extraordinary  a  course  1  Let  then  our  protestant 
church  look  to  the  church  of  Rome  ;  and  single  instancess 
at  least,  will  be  found  of  episcopal  zeal  not  less  magnan- 
imously^ irregular.  Alas  !  the  church  of  Rome  may  boast 
examples  of  apostolic  greatness  and  intrepidity,  which 
protestant  churches  have  failed  to  imitate. 

If  there  seem  to  be  irony  in  such  a  proposition — whence 
does  that  irony  draw  its  force  ?  Assuredly  no  derision 
would  have  been  suspected  if,  in  some  hour  of  public  fear, 
it  had  been  asked  of  Cyprian,  of  Gregory,  of  Athanasius, 
of  Hilary  of  Ambrose,  of  Augustine,  to  set  a  necessary  ex- 
ample of  evangelic  charity,  in  publishing  abroad  the  hope 
of  salvation,  when  to  multitudes,  that  hope  must  instantly 
be  received,  or  not  at  all.  Is  it  true  then,  that  it  sounds 
like  the  most  preposterous  of  all  possible  suppositions  to 
imagine  a  mode  of  proceeding  in  our  times,  such  as 
Cyprian,  and  Gregory,  and  Athanasius,  and  Hilary,  and 
Ambrose,  and  Agustine,  would  certainly  have  adopted, 
under  similar  circumstances? — Sad  inference,  if  this  be 
the  fact ! 

But  it  is  not  warrantable  absolutely  to  conclude  that  the 
line  of  conduct  demanded  by  extraordinary  events,  will  not 
be  adopted  when  a  vivid  conviction  shall  be  felt  that  such 


44  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

a  season  is  actually  approaching.  Nay,  there  is  reason  to 
believe,  that  although  much  inertness  may  have  fallen 
upon  all  religious  bodies,  as  the  consequence  of  long-contin- 
ued repose,  it  will  be  shaken  off  when  that  repose  is 
effectively  disturbed ;  and  that  whatever  is  worthy  of 
Christians,  and  of  men  high  in  rank,  shall  indeed  be 
attempted  and  performed  in  the  hour  of  trial. 


y. 

THE  MEANS  OF  MERCY. 

"  —  The  Gospel— the  Power  of  God  to  Salvation." 


To  what  extent  the  sacrifice  once  offered  for  the  sins  of 
mankind  has  actually  taken  effect,  we  neither  know,  nor 
have  the  means,  in  any  degree,  of  surmising.  The  world 
of  spirits  is  veiled.  The  inspired  writers  are  silent ;  and 
theological  rigidity,  together  with  bold  conjecture,  should 
be  checked,  on  such  a  theme.  Meanwhile  it  is  certain — 
as  certain  as  the  Gospel,  that  the  mercy  of  God  has  had 
no  other  channel ;  and  that  to  each  of  us,  severally,  there 
is — a  hope  in  Christ ;  and  no  other  hope. 

Nothing  is  more  desirable  than  that  each  one  should 
bring  this  most  important  of  all  truths  very  distinctly 
before  the  mind.  This  may  actually  be  done  by  a  process 
that  is  not  elaborate,  or  difficult.  Is  there  a  human 
memory  that  bears  inscribed  upon  it  no  one  act  of 
deliberate  transgression  of  the  plain  and  unquestioned 
maxims  of  virtue  ? — If  there  be,  we  will  exclude  the  im- 
maculate instance  from  our  present  consideration  ;  and 
will  turn'to  those  whose  consciences  forbid  them  to  advance 
any  such  pretension  ;  and  ask  them  to  single  out,  from  the 
entire  course  of  their  personal  history,  that  one  occasion  of 
flagrant  misconduct  which  (by  right  of  its  enormity)  first 
starts  to  view,  when  an  inquiry  of  this  sort  is  made.  We 
speak  of  a  signal  offence  ;  riot  because  the  most  trivial 
sin  would  not  really,  as  well  as  the  most  grave,  bear  the 


46  SATURDAY'  EVENING. 

stress  of  our  argument ;  but  because  the  mind,  from  the 
indistinctness  of  its  perceptions,  does  not  act  decisively,  or 
promptly,  unless  it  is  handling  an  object  of  some  magni- 
tude. And  now,  having  before  us  this  one  definite  affair 
— this  unpropitious  transaction,  in  which  we  were  the 
chief  party,  or  principal — this  matter  of  history,  which  no 
power  of  oblivion  can  erase  from  the  page  where  it  stands 
— which  no  agony  of  remorse  can  alter  or  alleviate,  even 
in  the  most  minute  particular,  let  us  look  to  it,  as  some- 
thing (no  matter  how  large  a  space  of  time  intervenes 
between  it  and  our  present  self)  which  has  become  insep- 
arably linked  to  our  identity ;  so  inseparably,  as  that  it  is, 
and  shall  remain  ours  for  ever — and  ours,  even  if  we 
could  take  wing  and  escape  beyond  the  bounds  of  crea- 
tion. No  power,  no  decree,  human  or  divine,  no  amnes- 
ty, can  actually  alienate  from  a  man  his  property  in  a 
crime  he  has  perpetrated. 

Let  us  then  contemplate  this  companion  of  our  existence 
— and  let  us  extenuate,  conceal,  adorn,  the  unpleasing 
reality.  How  peculiar  were  the  inducements ; — how  much 
did  circumstances,  in  which  we  were  not  to  blame,  concur, 
almost  to  necessitate  the  act !  Virtue,  at  the  moment,  was 
not  on  the  alert.  And  then  the  actual  injury  that  resulted 
was  not  nearly  so  great  as  it  might  have  been  ;— ourselves 
were  the  chief  sufferers : — amends  have  been  made : — the 
victim  even,  has  forgotten  the  wrong : — the  world  has 
pronounced  a  full  pardon  : — nothing — nothing  remains ; 
— but  memory  and  conscience : — it  is  as  if  it  were  not. 
No  ;  we  cannot  ourselves  fall  in  with  this  illusion.  There 
have  been  cases  in  which  a  man,  disordered  in  mind,  has 
thought  himself  incessantly  followed  by  some  ghastly 
phantom  : — he  has  mixed  in  the  crowd ; — he  has  hurried 
from  place  to  place ; — he  has  plunged  into  the  heart  of 


THE  MEANS  OF  MERCY.  47 

revelry,  and  has  fondly  for  a  moment  believed,  that  he 
had  actually  eluded  his  pursuer  : — no  ; — at  his  side  the 
cruel  persecutor  still  stands  up,  and  mocks  his  endeavours 
to  escape.  But  the  crime  with  which  conscience  holds  so 
much  familiarity,  is  a  far  more  real  and  terrible  companion. 
In  the  one  case,  if  the  mind  could  not  be  disabused,  and 
restored  to  soundness,  the  shadowy  form  would  melt  away, 
and  be  forgotten  ;  but  in  this,  the  more  the  mind  is  sane, 
and  vigorous,  and  calm,  the  more  palpably  and  vividly 
does  our  grim  attendant  stand  forth  in  our  path. 

Or  in  order  to  feel,  the  more  sensibly,  the  reality  of  our 
guilt,  let  it  be  placed  by  the  side  of  a  very  possible  suppo- 
sition ;  namely — that  the  temptation  had  been  repelled — 
the  force  of  evil  passions  withstood — the  voice  of  con- 
science, which  we  well  remember  to  have  heard — listened 
to,  and  a  victory  actually  obtained  over  the  trying  seduction. 
Is  then  the  difference  between  compliance  and  resistance 
of  no  account  ? — is  it  a  circumstance  not  worthy  of  re- 
membrance, whether  a  man  stands  or  falls  before  his 
enemy  ?  Victory,  we  should  have  thought  much  of : — is 
not  defeat  as  notable  an  event  as  conquest?  But  if  it 
may  not  be  obliterated,  in  what  light  are  we  to  regard  this 
deep  stain  of  sin,  which  has  sunk  into  the  soul  ? 

Can  we  not  bring  ourselves  to  believe  that  the  common 
notions  of  mankind,  and  the  affirmations  of  religion,  con- 
cerning invisible  government,  and  retribution,  and  the 
difference  butween  good  and  evil,  are  a  dream  and  a 
nullity  ?  This,  if  it  could  be  done,  would  rid  us  at  once 
of  every  uneasiness.  True— our  crime  stands  on  record  ; 
but  we  have  no  more  to  do  with  it  than  with  the  forgotten 
deeds  of  antediluvians.  Alas  !  no  pains  will  avail  to 
realize  such  a  persuasion  !  Even  if  the  positive  and  irre- 
fragable proofs  of  the  truth  of  religion  could  be  subverted, 


48  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

an  unquenchable  instinct  of  the  soul  remains  to  retain 
hold  of  the  notion  of  a  moral  system,  and  of  law  and  jus- 
tice.    This  sense  of  the  fitness  of  RETRIBUTION  flashes 
upon  us,  in  some  form,  every  hour.     We  cannot  read  a 
page  of  history,  we  cannot  listen  to  the  news  of  the  day, 
we  cannot  walk  the  streets,  without  forcibly  admitting  the 
idea,  that  there  must  be  a  vindication  of  right :  nay,  we 
often  court  the  expectation  of  it ; — sometimes  as  witnesses, 
and  sometimes  as  •  victims  of  oppression,  or  of  cruelty,  or 
rapacity,  we  fly  to  the  relief  of  ultimate  justice  ;  and,  even 
apart  from  any  vindictive  feeling,  are  agonized  if  vre  ima- 
gine that  the  controversy  between  the  oppressor  and  the 
oppressed  shall  never — never,  be  adjusted.     If,   at  any 
time,  the  films  of  false  philosophy  have  deceived  us  into 
the  opinion  that  vice  and  virtue  are  one  and  the  same — 
this  sophistry  shares  the  fate  of  many  other  sophistries,  in 
practical  matters  ; — that  is  to  say,  it  is  instantly  and  irre- 
coverably scattered  by  our  first  brunt  with  some  real  affair 
of  common  life,  that  appeals  to  the  ordinary  sentiments  of 
humanity  : — the  illusion  fades — truth  and  nature  stand 
out,  and  speak  aloud,  and  we  dare  not  refuse  to  hear  them. 
But  if  there  is  to  be  retribution  at  all,  if  any  crime  or 
cruelty,  the  most  atrocious  which  history  records,  or  which 
history  has  forgotten,  is  to  be  brought  to  account  in  an 
after-life,  and  is  to  receive  its  due  award  of  chastisement ; 
— if  the  authority  of  God,  as  Governor  of  men,  is  to  be  in 
any  manner  asserted,  and  maintained,  then  is  it  possible 
to  believe  that  such  retribution  shall  be  otherwise  than 
ABSOLUTELY  IMPARTIAL?  and  when  we  say  impartial, 
we  must  mean  that  it  shall  be  in  the  strictest  sense  UNI- 
VERSAL.    It  must  bear  alike,  and  equally,  upon  every  re- 
sponsible agent,  and  must  come  close  home  to  the  entire 
merit  and  demerit  of  each.     Shall  small  offences  escape 


THE  MEANS  OP  MERCY.  49 

inquiry,  while  egregious  sins  only  are  brought  into  court  ? 
This  could  not  be  ;  for  the  perpetrator  of  enormous  crimes 
might  justly  turn  round  upon  his  exculpated  companionsj 
and  affirm  that,  if  all  circumstances  of  temptation  and 
original  disposition  were  fairly  weighed,  the  actual  balance 
of  guilt  would  be  in  his  favour ;  inasmuch  as  some  who 
had  seemed  to  sin  less,  had  actually  sinned  more,  by  sin- 
ning with  fewer  inducements,  or  with  more  advantage  for 
virtue.  Or  shall  Supreme  Justice  take  notice  only  of  those 
offences  that  have  in  fact  been  peculiarly  pernicious  in 
their  consequences,  and  the  occasions  of  misery  to  others  1 
This  mode  of  proceeding  would  be  liable  to  an  objection 
equally  conclusive.  For  the  offender,  so  singled  out  on 
account  of  the  actual  mischief  he  had  caused,  v/ould  be 
entitled  to  complain  that  his  fate  was  ruled,  not  by  law  or 
intrinsic  demerit ;  but  by  accidents,  over  which  he  had 
no  control ;  and  it  would  be  easy  to  find  instances  of 
much  worse  intention  than  his  own,  which,  on  this  sys- 
tem, would  altogether  escape  unpunished.  There  is  in 
fact  no  justice,  that  is  not  universal  justice.  Justice  alto- 
gether is  nullified,  and  disgraced,  by  even  a  single,  and 
the  smallest  instance  of  oblivion,  or  inequality,  or  perver- 
sion of  facts.  Who  would  come  forward  and  profess  to 
wish  that  the  law,  which  is  taking  effect  upon  his  neigh- 
bour, should  turn  aside  from  himself. 

If  we  here  reason  upon  this  subject  on  the  common  and 
intelligible  principles  of  human  nature  j  it  is  precisely  be- 
cause HUMAN  NATURE  is  in  question  ;  and  because  God's 
proceedings  towards  man  will  (more  exactly  than  we  often 
suppose)  justify  themselves  to  all  minds,  on  these  same  in- 
telligible principles.  If  then,  on  one  hand,  we  exhort  the 
theologian  not  to  assume  more  than  is'  contained  in  such 
simple  rules,  we  adjure  the  culprit  not  to  assume  less. 

6 


50  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

But  now,  may  it  not  seem  as  if  the  offences  of  men— 
themselves  insignificant  as  they  are — were  utterly  un- 
worthy of  becoming  the  subject  of  judicial  proceeding  in 
the  court  of  Heaven  ?     Un  worth)'  of  judicial  proceedings  ! 
— Is  any  such  rule  acted  upon,  or  admitted  on  earth? 
Let  us  look  to  the  mightiest  empire  that  ever  has  existed, 
the  sovereign  and  the  chiefs  of  which  have  taken  to  them- 
selves so  vast  an  importance,  that  the  welfare  of  whole 
provinces  might  not  be  weighed  against  their  most  trivial 
convenience  or  pleasure.     And  then  let  us  seek  for  the 
very  meanest  of  the  degraded  beings  that  tie  obscure  in  the 
quarters  of  want.     Is  the  wretch  ambitious  of  distinction  ? 
would  he  fain  draw  upon  himself  the  eyes  of  the  mighty  ? 
— does  he  covet  to  stand  among  princes  ? — Then  let  him 
insult  the  majesty  of  government : — let  him  but  commit 
a  crime,  and  his  wish  is  accomplished.     Though  nothing 
else  could  possibly  have  given  him  importance — Treason 
shall  do  it.     And  it  shall  presently  be  seen,  that  the  highest 
personages  of  state  are  busy  with  his  interests : — No  affair 
of  the  realm  is  deemed  so  urgent  as  that  the  hearing  of  the 
cause  should  be  finally  neglected,  or  the  accused  be  suffer- 
ed to  make  a  jest  of  royal  power.     Whether  he  is  to  be 
condemned  or  absolved,  punished  or  pardoned,  he  must  at 
all  events  be  made  amenable  to  law,  and  be  dealt  wilh  in 
some  manner  which  shall  leave  no  stain  either  upon  the 
principles,  or  the  administration  of  the  empire.     And  this 
rule  of  procedure  is  valid  and  constant,  just  in  proportion 
to  the  excellencies,  the  equity,  and  the  firmness  or  vigour 
of  a  government ;  and  of  the  very  best  government  this  is 
the  praise,  that  justice  is  carried  home  to  all  persons  alike, 
great  or  mean.     In  a  state  the  most  free  and  wise  that  can 
be  imagined,  the  sovereign  himself  would  never  be  thought 
to  forfeit  his  dignity,  though  he  were  seen  to  be  assiduously 


THE  MEANS  OF  MERCY.  51 

employed  (if  needful)  day  after  day,  in  ascertaining  the 
guilt  or  innocence  of  the  very  lowest  of  his  subjects.  Do 
we  approve  this  principle  ?  Unquestionably  then  it  shall 
be  found  to  belong  to  that  Government  which  is  absolutely 
good  and  just. 

Yes,  if  nothing  else  can  confer  importance  upon  man — 
his  crimes  shall  give  him  consequence.  If  there  were  no 
other  argument  for  a  future  life,  SIN  would  furnish  one, 
never  to  be  refuted.  We  need  descend  into  no  depths  of 
abstruse  reasoning  here : — the  simplest  notions  are  con- 
clusive enough.  There  is  a  cause  standing  over  between 
the  Impartial  Judge,  and  ourselves  ;  and  a  time  for  the 
hearing  and  decision  of  it  must  certainly  come.  If  indef- 
initely delayed,  and  forgotten,  all  loyal  orders  must  har- 
bour dissatisfaction  and  fear ;  while  all  who  have  actually 
been  called  to  account  and  punished,  will  protest  against 
the  partiality.  If  conscience  be  but  awake,  the  transgressor, 
as  he  stands  at  the  verge  of  the  present  life,  may  thus  prop- 
erly decide  upon  his  own  fate.  "  I  have  sinned  and  per- 
verted that  which  was  right.  Let  me  hide  myself  in  the 
darkness  of  the  grave  !  No ;  for  God's  ministers,  and  all 
beings — good  and  evil,  shall  demand  me  at  the  hands  of 
Death,  and  forbid  I  should  be  forgotten.  The  dust  may 
not  screen  me — the  clods  may  not  cover  me.  Corruption 
may  not  say  I  am  lost  and  gone.  The  highest  tribunal 
is  waiting  my  appearance ;  and  unless  I  am  made  there 
to  stand,  the  honour  of  all  government  is  blasted — the  per- 
fections of  God  impugned.  True,  I  am  insignificant ;  but 
yet  am  party  in  a  cause  in  which  the  wisdom,  and  purity, 
and  power,  of  the  Eternal  God  are  in  question." 

It  is  quite  another  matter  to  ask  how  the  crime  and  the 
culprit  are  to  be  treated.  What  we  have  now  to  do  with 
is  only  this — That  every  crime,  and  every  culprit,  must 


52  iATURDAY  EVENING. 

eventually  corne  under  legal  and  retributive  notice ;  and 
must,  in  some  way,  consistent  with  good  government,  be 
finally  disposed  of.  We  must  grant  this,  or  else  throw  out 
of  our  scheme  of  human  nature  every  notion,  and  impulse, 
and  mode  of  acting,  that  implies  law  and  justice — good 
and  evil.  If  we  can  actually  do  so,  then  let  us  plunge  at 
ease  upon  the  unknown  world,  with  a  thousand  crimes 
upon  our  heads. 

.  If  not,  the  question  comes — How  is  the  transgressor  to 
be  dealt  with  ?  And  now,  if  we  will  but  adhere  to  those 
intelligible  ideas  which  tacitly  regulate  human  affairs,  we 
shall  see  that,  if  ever  any  authority  or  tribunal  winks  at 
offence,  or  allows  the  offender  to  elude  its  jurisdiction,  or 
if  it  remits  all  inquiry,  such  an  evasion  takes  place  on  one 
of  these  two  grounds — either  first,  That  the  administrative 
power  is  felt  to  be  too  feeble  to  go  through  with  the  cause, 
in  the  instance  of  so  formidable  a  culprit ;  and  that  there- 
fore it  is  better  to  put  up  with  the  first  disgrace,  of  not 
making  inquiry,  rather  than  endure  the  dishonour  of 
declaring  guilt,  which  it  has  no  sword  to  punish : — or 
secondly,  That  the  offence  passes  up  to  a  higher  tribunal. 
This  is  a  sound  and  creditable  reason  for  the  remission  of 
inquiry,  or  for  the  non-exertion  of  judicial  powers. 

But  when  the  cause  has  so  been  passed  up,  through 
court  after  court,  and  comes  at  length  to  the  last  and 
Supreme  tribunal,  shall  it  there  be  set  aside  ?  It  may,  even 
there,  if  the  Supreme  Power  is  infirm  ;  or  if  it  be  corrupt : 
— in  other  words,  if  the  forms  of  law  and  justice  are  mere 
pomps,  of  which  all  men  make  their  mirth.  We  do  not 
indeed  deny  that  the  First  Magistrate,  in  a  vigorous  and 
equitable  government,  may,  if  he  so  please,  pardon  the 
culprit ; — far  from  it.  But  we  absolutely  deny  that  he 
can  (unless  feeble  or  corrupt)  fail  to  take  cognizance  in 


THE  MEANS  OP  MERCV.  53 

some  manner,  of  each,  and  of  every  cause,  which,  after 
having  been  remitted  in  turn  by  inferior  courts,  is  formally 
assigned  to  himself  as  supreme.  To  pardon  an  offender 
upon  his  submission  and  confession,  is  not  to  \vink  at 
crime,  or  to  lay  oblivion  upon  law  ; — unless  indeed  pardon 
has  so  become  the  standing1  rule  of  administration >  that 
men  are  fain  to  doubt  whether  there  exists  at  all  thepower 
or  the  will  to  punish.  In  such  a  case  penitence  and  pardon 
would  both  be  mockeries  ;  and  neither  to  be  respected  more 
than  the  motions  of  wooden  figures,  the  one  of  which 
always  lifts  the  arm,  when  the  other  lets  it  fall. 

Can  we  actually  bring  together,  or  hold  in  union,  any 
such  incongruous  ideas,  as  those  of  a  system  of  law  and 
retribution  on  the  one  hand  ; — and  the  practice  of  Univer- 
sal Pardon,  dealt  out  to  offenders  by  the  ultimate  and 
Supreme  Power?  If  all  are  punished,  and  punished 
equitably  ;  none  indeed  can  complain  ;  and  no  confusion 
is  brought  in.  But  if  all  are  pardoned  ;  and  pardoned  as 
a  mere  act  of  clemency,  the  very  substance  of  government 
is  made  nugatory.  If  pardon  is  the  rule — punishment 
the  exception,  then  law  is  blamed ;  or  administration 
proved  imbecile.  In  good  and  firm  governments,  punish- 
ment will  be  the  rule,  and  pardon  the  exception  : — and 
yet  even  this  exceptive  pardon  sullies  the-  brilliancy  of 
power  and  wisdom,  unless  clearly  it  is  seen  to  spring  from 
some  law  higher  or  more  comprehensive  than  the  law 
which  has  been  violated.  To  PARDON  WITHOUT  REASON 
is  an  error,  on  the  part  of  a  sovereign,  of  which  the  same 
may  be  said  as  is  said  of  other  errors — that  though  a  single 
instance  will  not  destroy  a  man's  reputation,  the  frequent 
repetition  of  it  infallibly  will  do  so.  A  man  may  be  weak 
once,  or  thrice  ;  and  retrieve  his  character  ;  but  if  he  be 
weak  daily,  what  is  thought  of  him  ? 


54  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

Yet  what  is  it  to  pardon  with  reason,  but  to  act  ac- 
cording- to  a  rule  ;  only  applying,  in  each  instance,  the 
rule  that  is  in  fact  most  applicable  to  it.  On  this  principle, 
the  idea  of  blind  or  indiscriminate  forgiveness  will  be  quite 
excluded  from  our  conception  of  the  Divine  Conduct. 

And  now,  whoever  can  persuade  himself  that  it  is  safe 
to  do  so — let  him  go  on  to  the  point  where  death  is  to  meet 
him  (that  point  is  fixed)  with  his  sins,  and  take  the  chance 
of  either  not  meeting  Justice  in  the  next  world,  or  of  being 
able  to  clear  himself  from  its  demands.  And  let  him  go 
(would  it  not  be  wise  ?)  well  schooled  in  all  those  abstruse 
and  conclusive  arguments  by  which  it  has  been  shown 
— that  there  can  be  nothing  formidable  in  the  Divine 
Character  ;  nothing  inflexible,  or  firm  in  the  Divine  Ad- 
ministration ; — or  that  the  Most  High  must  needs  give 
way  to  the  urgency  of  the  case,  when  the  culprits  are  found 
to  be  millions  of  millions  in  number !  Or  that  he  will 
certainly  be  moved  to  relent  by  a  candid  acknowledgment 
of  error.  The  tribunal  of  Almighty  God  will  be  a  fit  place 
for  discussing  metaphysical  principles  of  government ! 
And  the  spirit,  just  shivering  in  surprise  as  it  has  gasped 
from  the  body,  will  doubtless  be  in  mode  to  make  the  best 
of  its  own  cause,  and  to  plead  extenuations  ! 

But  we  should  not  accumulate  terrors,  or  endeavour  to 
carry  our  point  unfairly,  by  kindling  the  imagination. 
No  ;  let  nothing  stupendous  or  appalling,  nothing  ghastly 
or  horrific,  be  supposed.  Let  nothing  be  thought  of  but 
what  cool  reason,  backed  by  every  probability,  must  antici- 
pate. Reduce  the  idea  or  expectation  of  the  ultimate 
tribunal  to  the  smallest  possible  dimensions:  let  it  be 
thought  of  as  frigidly  as  we  can.  The  ministers  of  justice 
are  calm,  dispassionate — kind  even,  and  mindful  only  of 
their  duty.  Yet  assuredly  they  will  do  their  duty.  If  the 


THE  MEANS  OF  MERCY".  55 

methods  of  proof  are  to  differ  from  those  which,  of  necessity, 
are  resorted  to  on.  earth,  the  substance  of  the  proceedings 
will  be  the  same.  By  what  means  soever  made  known — 
it  is  the  truth  that  will  come  out.  None  shall  be  wearied 
by  the  tediousness  of  the  trial ; — leisure  enough  shall  be 
granted  to  carry  it  through.  A  man's  deeds,  in  due  suc- 
cession, shall  be  recounted  :  and  the  most  succinct  and 
satisfactory  method,  perhaps,  will  be  for  himself  to  recount 
them.  He  may  well  be  trusted  to  do  so  ;  for  he  feels  at 
every  pore,  that  the  atmosphere  of  truth  is  about  him. 
Nay,  a  blaze  of  light  penetrates  his  very  nature,  and  the 
table  of  memory,  like  the  face  of  an  obelisk,  thickly  in- 
scribed, and  fronting  the  sun,  may  be  read  by  all. 

We  need  do  nothing  to  fill  up  our  idea  of  law  and  jus- 
tice in  the  future  world,  but  take  as  our  pattern,  the  law 
and  justice  of  earth ; — freed  only  from  the  imperfections 
that  attend  them.  These  imperfections  are — that  liability 
to  error  which  sometimes  throws  the  punishment  of  the 
guilty  upon  the  head  of  the  innocent — and  the  inapplica- 
bility of  law  to  any  but  certain  overt  acts  of  sin  ;  so  that  it 
is  not  more  than  a  sample  of  the  wrongs  actually  com- 
mitted by  men  upon  their  fellows,  that  is  cognizable  to 
statutes,  or  liable  to  punishment.  How  often  does  it  hap- 
pen there  are  found,  among  the  grave  assessors  of  judg- 
ment, men  far  more  odious  in  heart,  and  incomparably 
more  pernicious  to  society,  than  the  haggard  and  misguided 
wretch,  who  stands  trembling  at  the  bar  !  And  how  often, 
in  the  crowd  that  presses  around  the  scaffold,  might  hun- 
dreds, be  singled  out,  who  deserve  to  die  five  times,  for  the 
one  death  inflicted  upon  him  whom  the  sword  of  Justice 
(blind  Justice)  is  to  pierce  !  These  disparagements  of 
human  law,  though  great,  are  irremediable.  But  the  ine- 
qualities and  the  errors  that  thence  arise,  shall  be  rectified 

6* 


56  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

in  the  world  of  truth.  Every  offender  shall  there  take  hia 
turn  at  the  bar  ;  and  every  offence  shall  pass  under  inquiry ; 
and  the  verdict  in  each  instance  shall  be  a  true  one.  Who 
can  complain  of  such  a  course  of  things  ? 

Those  then  may  be  very  bold — who  have  no  sin  :— 
assuredly  the  tribunal  of  Almighty  God  shall  do  them  no 
harm ! .  "Alas  !  multitudes  have  gone  to  that  tribunal  with 
the  preposterous  confidence  of  innocence,  who,  in  the  eye 
of  God's  impartial  law,  shall  be  found  more  guilty  than 
many  an  abhorred  victim  of  human  justice  ! 

But  what  say  we  of  the  penalty  ? — Shall  we  amuse  our 
leisure  by  showing  the  inconclusiveness  of  certain  terrific 
and  probable  arguments  on  this  subject  ? — Shall  we  spend 
the  hours  of  life  that  remain,  in  gathering  reasons  which 
may  seem  to  make  it  less  than  absolutely  certain,  that  the 
very  worst  that  has  been  affirmed  or  thought  of — shall 
prove  to  be  true  ?  Shall  we  court  those  dreams  concern- 
ing the  lenity  of  the  Divine  government,  which  the  miseries 
even  of  the  present  life  are  enough  to  dissipate?  Nay 
rather,  let  us  admit  at  once  the  belief,  confirmed  as  it  is  by 
sound  reason,  and  established  by  religion,  that  there  are 
purposes,  far  more  extensive  and  profound  than  ordinarily 
we  think  of,  to  be  carried  through  upon  the  human  race, 
by  the  vigour  of  Almighty  Power.  Rather  than  any 
longer  debilitate  the  moral  forces  of  the  mind,  by  giving 
ear  to  flatteries  that  breathe  the  very  nausea  of  sin,  let  us 
take  up,  as  the  first  axiom  of  our  religious  notions,  the 
truth — That  "  it  is  indeed  a  fearful  thing  to  fall  into  the 
hands  of  the  Living  God  !" 

But  there  is  mercy  for  man.  "  The  Gospel  is  the  power 
of  God  for  saving  all  who  believe !" — Whoever  will,  let 
him  convince  himself,  if  he  can,  that  the  Divine  Mercy 
might  flow  in  other  channels  than  through  the  Mediation 


THE  MEANS  OF  MERCY.  67 

of  His  Son ; — or  that  it  might,  without  any  restriction  or 
condition,  spread  over  the  world  of  sin,  as  the  ocean  covers 
its  bed.  Such  an  argument,  and  the  idler  who  pursues  it, 
must  be  left  in  the  rear.  The  infatuations  of  the  sensual 
and  frivolous  part  of  mankind  are  amazing  ;  but  the  infa- 
tuations of  the  learned  and  sophistical  are  incomparably 
more  so.  Or  the  difference  between  the  two,  is  as  the 
difference  between  folly  and  madness. 

Every  proof  that  could  be  made  to  consist  with  the  rules 
of  evidence,  establishes  the  truth  of  the  Christian  Religion. 
The  subject  of  the  Christian  Religion  is  the  controversy  to 
which  sin  has  given  birth,  between  God  and  man  ; — the 
matter  of  the  Revelation  it  contains,  is  the  announcement 
of  absolute  forgiveness,  through  the  Mediation  of  Christ. 
And  what  is  the  complexion  or  character  of  this  Gospel 
remission  ?  It  is  not  the  consequence  of  the  abrogation  of 
law.  It  is  not  a  repeal  of  penalties.  It  is  not  a  disparage- 
ment of  Supreme  Wisdom.  It  is  not  a  deduction  from  the 
supposed  power  of  inflicting  punishment — and  especially, 
it  is  not  such  a  mere  act  of  grace  as,  in  the  nature  of 
the  case,  must  not  stretch  very  far,  lest  the  punishment  of 
any  should  seem  a  captious  severity — and  pardon  an  un- 
avoidable compromise. 

The  pardon  of  the  Gospel — is  PARDON  FOR  A  REASON  : 
— that  is  to  say,  it  is  pardon  granted  in  compliance  with  a 
rule,  higher,  or  more  comprehensive,  than  the  law  which 
was  broken.  The  pardon  of  the  Gospel,  therefore  may 
be  extended  without  reserve  ;  because  the  reason  whence 
it  flows  is  greater  than  all  other  reasons.  Even  if  it  were 
to  appear  at  the  last,  that  the  myriad  has  received  pardon, 
and  the  thousand  has  been  left  to  endure  punishment,  the 
principles  of  administration  would  not  be  sullied  ;  because, 
while  the  demands  of  Justice  are  definite,  the  provision 
of  Grace  is  unbounded.  Grace  encompasses  Justice. 


58  SATURDAY   EVENING. 

And  yet,  if  in  any  manner  we  surrender  the  Divine 
dignity  of  the  Mediator,  the  REASON  OF  PARDON  at  once 
disappears  ;  and  the  government  of  God  is  clouded.  Or, 
(and  it  is  a  certain  indication  that  the  harmony  of  truth 
is  spoiled,)  the  conscience  of  man  receives  no  lasting 
peace.  Conscience  may  indeed  remain  in  its  native  slum- 
ber, or  it  may  embrace  flatteries;  but  when  once  it  is 
quickened  ;  when  once  the  purity  of  law,  and  the  impar- 
tiality and  vigour  of  the  Divine  government  have  been  ad- 
mitted— and  the  thought  of  standing  at  the  tribunal  of 
God  has  firmly  lodged  itself  ia  the  mind,  the  well-founded 
fear  of  condemnation  is  in  no  way  to  be  allayed,  until  the 
SUBSTITUTE  of  the  sinner,  is  known  to  be  THE  VERY 
PARTY,  whom  the  sinner  has  insulted  ! 


VI. 
THE  CHURCH  AND  THE  WORLD. 

"  'Llic  world  knoweth  us  not." 


THAT  peculiar  species  of  arrogance  termed  Spiritual 
Pride,  may  probably  still  be  found  here  and  there  within 
the  precincts  of  religion ;  for  we  must  not  suppose  that 
any  evil  incident  to  human  nature  is  absolutely  extinct. 
Let  it  be  confessed  then,  that  there  are  persons,  calling 
themselves  Christians,  who,  confident  that  they  are  the 
special  objects  of  divine  favour,  look  abroad  upon  the  im- 
piety of  mankind,  and  exult  to  see  they  have  so  few  com- 
petitors for  the  honours  they  pretend  to  ! 

But  as  it  is  usual  for  the  most  obtrusive  or  singular  prop- 
erty of  any  aggregate  body  to  be  imputed  to  the  whole, 
by  those  who  care  not  to  inform  themselves  correctly  of 
that  of  which  they  speak,  it  happens  that  irreligious  men 
assume  this  same  spiritual  pride  to  be,  not  merely  a  fault 
to  which  religionists  are  liable  ;  but  the  universal  charao- 
teristic  of  all  such  persons ;  and  if  called  upon  to  explain 
the  fact  of  the  segragation  of  a  portion  of  the  community, 
on  the  ground  of  purer  principles  than  others  profess,  they 
deem  themselves  to  have  reached  the  depth  of  the  mystery 
when  they  tell  you,  that  (incidental  causes  admitted) 
ghostly  arrogance  is  the  secret  of  all  extraordinary  profes- 
sions in  matters  of  religion  ;  a  theory  this,  which,  to  say 
nothing  of  it  on  the  ground  of  charity,  will  be  found  as 
consonant  with  truth  as  those  theories  visually  are,  which  a 


60  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

man  frames  in  impatience  and  vexation,  merely  to  obtain 
riddance  of  a  perplexity  that  gives  him  frequent  annoyance 
and  some  alarm. 

But  those  who  know  human  nature  better,  and  religion 
better,  and  the  peculiar  temper  of  the  age  better,  do  not 
need  to  be  told  that,  if  spiritual  arrogance  has  prevailed 
among  Christians  (by  profession)  in  certain  eras,  it  has,  in 
our  own  times,  very  generally  given  place  to  a  feeling  al- 
most of  an  opposite  kind.  The  same  melancholy  facts 
which,  a  while  ago  inflated,  perhaps,  the  pride  of  some  self- 
styled  favourites  of  Heaven,  are  now  contemplated  by  be- 
lievers in  the  Gospel  with  a  painful  emotion,  not  only  of 
pity  and  sorrow,  but  of  timidity  and  discouragement.  A 
mode  of  thinking  at  once  humane  and  comprehensive,  has 
in  greater  or  less  degree,  spread  through  the  church ;  a 
new  habit  of  reflection  on  the  condition  of  mankind  has 
grown  into  use  :  and  in  the  very  proportion  that  Christians 
have  desired  more  ardently,  than  heretofore,  the  propaga- 
tion of  their  faith,  and  have  done  more  to  effect  it,  they 
have  the  more  become  liable  to  an  emotion  of  sad  amaze- 
ment, or  misgiving  when  they  think  of  the  millions  afar 
off,  that  know  not  the  Revelation  of  God,  or  of  the 
thousands  at  hand,  that  hold  it  in  contempt. 

This  sedative  and  uneasy  feeling  (ineffably  abhorrent  as  it 
is  of  spiritual  conceit  or  elation)  very  naturally  attaches  most 
strongly  to  those  who  have  most  general  intelligence,  and 
modesty  (the  attendant  of  intelligence)  and  are  most  con- 
versant with  the  world  ;  and  who  are  moreover  accustomed 
fairly  to  weigh  peculiar  claims  and  professions.  Such  per- 
sons, and  not  a  few  such  are  to  be  found,  could  as  soon 
draw  a  sinister  and  malign  gratification  from  the  disobe- 
dience of  a  son — the  ;  treachery  of  a  friend,  or  the  false 
.  imputation  to  themselves  of  a  crime,  as  from  the  sad  truth 


THE  CHURCH  AND  THE  WORLD.         61 

that  multitudes  of  their  countrymen  and  the  great  mass  of 
mankind,  are  destitute  of  piety. 

The  deep  and  genuine  uneasiness  that  accrues  from  this 
source  is  enhanced,  or  at  least  is  rendered  more  oppressive, 
by  the  considerations  that  arise  from  an  exact  and  impar- 
tial estimate  of  the  ostensible  comparative  merits  of  the 
religious  and  the  irreligious  classes  :  and  while,  in  survey- 
ing the  latter,  a  feeling  of  scrupulous  or  punctilious  candour, 
and  an  anxiety  to  adhere  to  philosophic  justice,  dispose 
them  to  reckon,  at  its  fullest  value,  whatever  seems  good 
and  praiseworthy,  and  to  listen  to  every  extenuation  of 
what  is  evil ;  in  reviewing  the  former  class,  a  sensitive 
regard  to  the  honour  of  Christianity  (in  the  abstract)  a 
high  conception  of  the  standard  of  piety  and  virtue,  and 
a  keen  jealousy  of  imposition,  lead  them  into  an  excessive 
or  faulty  caution,  in  the  scrutiny  of  religious  profession  ; 
and  generate  an  over-wrought  fear  lest  they  should  attri- 
bute a  particle  of  excellence  too  much  to  the  side  for  which 
the  praise  of  true  wisdom  and  goodness  is  exclusively 
challenged. 

Under  the  iufluence  of  feelings  like  these,  Christians 
are  tempted  to  conceal,  if  it  were  possible,  from  themselves, 
or  to  maintain  silence  on  that  inference  which  their  own 
hope  in  Christ  obliges  them  to  draw,  concerning  the  peril 
of  those  who  refuse  the  great  and  only  salvation  which 
man  can  know.  It  is  not  arrogance,  but  timidity,  of  which 
the  Christian  body  should  now  be  arraigned  by  the  world. 
But  as  the  world  is  in  error  in  the  capital  principle — so 
always  in  the  special  points  of  its  quarrel  with  the  church  ; 
— it  blames  that  which  is  praiseworthy,  and  if,  at  any  time 
it  applauds,  makes  choice  of  some  blemish,  or  laxity,  as 
the  subject  of  its  commendation. 

A  hearty  recognition  of  that  obnoxious  truth  which  the 
7 


62  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

Scriptures  often  affirm,  and  everywhere  suppose — the  par- 
tition of  mankind,  in  the  sight  of  God,  as  his  friends,  or 
his  enemies,  is  more  or  less  difficult,  according  to  the 
circumstances  of  the  times  we  live  in  ;  and  will  be  so  in 
the  highest  degree  precisely  at  those  moments  when,  in  a 
peculiar  manner,  it  is  important ;  namely,  when  the  diffu- 
sive influence  of  Christianity  is  so  great  as  to  lessen  much 
the  apparent  difference  between  Christians  and  others;  by 
which  means  obscurity  is  thrown  upon  the  first  principles 
of  the  Gospel.'  It  is  plain  that,  in  an  age  when  the  purify- 
ing doctrines  of  the  Scriptures  have  as  yet  had  no  opera- 
tion beyond  the  walls  of  the  church,  and  when,  moreover, 
within  those  limits,  the  Gospel  is  exerting  its  fullest  influ- 
ence, Christians,  conscious  as  they  are  both  of  hopes  and 
of  virtues  to  which  none  but  themselves  can  pretend,  are 
liable  to  no  embarrassment  (whatever  grief)  in  taking  up 
the  apostolic  profession — "  We  know  that  we  are  of  God, 
and  that  the  whole  world  lieth  in  wickedness."  While 
the  church  and  the  world  are  in  any  such  relative  position, 
each  exhibits  its  proper  internal  quality,  in  the  most  con- 
spicuous manner.  Purity  belongs  to  the  one : — shameless 
corruption  to  the  other. 

The  case  is  reversed  when,  even  if  the  primary  and 
efficacious  power  of  religion  be  not  much  abated,  its  secon- 
dary and  diffusive  influence  has  become  slowly  matured, 
and  is  very  widely  extended.  At  the  very  season  in  which 
Christianity  is  conferring  the  greatest  benefits  upon  man- 
kind at  large,  by  cleansing  the  atmosphere  of  the  social 
system,  by  shedding  abroad  a  general  light,  and  by  reprov- 
ing and  repressing  flagrant  evils,  its  genuine  adherents  are 
the  most  strongly  tempted  to  suppose  that  the  difference 
between  themselves  and  others  is  not  vital,  or  not  of  infinite 
consequence.  So  fatal  a  surrender  of  the  peculiarity  of 


THE  CHURCH  AND  THE  WORLD.         63 

the  Gospel  is  little  likely  to  take  place  while  all  the  skies 
are  darkened  by  the  smoke  of  idolatrous  worship,  and  the 
church  is  bcleagured  by  open  war. 

But  nothing  less  than  a  very  distinct  and  forcible  con- 
ception of  things  spiritual  will  avail,  in  times  like  our  own 
to  keep  alive  on  the  mind  a  truth  equally  certain  and 
momentous  in  one  age  as  in  another — that  whoever  is  riot, 
in  a  definite  sense,,  a  Christian,  is  "  yet  in  his  sins,"  and 
in  peril  of  the  future  judgment.  The  last  surviving  Apostle 
when,  in  the  age  of  Trajan,  he  looked  abroad  upon  the 
Roman  world,  might  (inspiration  apart)  boldly  decide  as 
he  did  in  the  controversy  between  the  friends  and  foes  of 
his  Master :  but  to  do  so  now  (unless  we  assume  the  rule 
of  the  sectarist,  who  judges  men  by  a  name)  demands,  not 
only  all  the  firmness  and  courage  of  true  charity  ;  but  an 
intimate  knowledge  of  the  REASON  of  such  a  decision. 

And  if  the  inducement  silently  to  compromise  what 
is  most  peculiar,  and  most  obnoxious,  in  their  profession, 
is,  to  all  Christians  at  the  present  moment,  strong  ;  it  is  so 
in  an  especial  manner,  to  religious  writers ; — or  we  should 
say  to  those  religious  writers  who,  renouncing  the  favour 
and  patronage  of  any  single  body  of  Christians  (a  bold 
measure)  are  tempted,  as  a  resource,  to  court  the  good-will 
of  the  world.  Besides ;  writers  of  this  order,  in  taking 
position  above  the  level  of  petty  eminences  on  which  others 
stand  and  in  adhering  to  the  maxims  of  absolute  indepen- 
dence, and  impartiality,  and  in  .shewing  their  abhorrence 
of  all  sinister  practices  in  matters  of  religion,  bring  them- 
selves into  correspondence  or  contact,  with  men  whose 
philosophic  candour,  and  largeness  of  mind,  might  afford 
the  ground  of  a  firm  coalition — if  it  were  not  that,  on  the 
one  side  principles  are  professed  which  the  other  looks  upon 
as  matter  of  offence,  or  of  scorn.  Now  in  this  peculiar 


64  SATURDAY   EVENING. 

exigency,  the  advocate  of  the  great  principles  of  the  Gospel 
is  fain  to  seek  for  any  means  of  conciliation,  that  may 
seem  lawful  and  available.  How  gladly  would  he  come 
to  agreement  with  those  whose  intellectual  simplicity  might 
lead  him  to  choose  them  as  his  friends  ;  or  to  look  to  them 
for  the  only  praise  he  covets !  With  this  view  more 
expedients  than  one  may  be  resorted  to. 

The  first,  perhaps,  is  to  employ  his  pen  on  subjects 
indirectly  connected  with  religion,  or  of  secondary  impor- 
tance ; — cautiously  abstaining  from  every  explicit  allusion 
to  those  great  matters  which  the  world  "  will  not  receive," 
nor  the  church  favourably  listen  to,  unless  pronounced  in 
accredited  terms.  Or  if  he  attempts  the  higher  themes  of 
Christianity,  he  may  endeavour  so  to  approach  them 
through  the  circuitous  and  subterraneous  passage  of 
abstruse  reasoning,  that,  while  his  meaning  escapes  the 
notice  of  simple  folk,  the  wise  and  knowing  shall  be  taken 
by  surprise,  and  made  suddenly  to  emerge,  to  their  amaze- 
ment, in  the  open  court  of  the  Temple — or  at  the  foot  of 
Mount  Calvary !  Or  such  a  writer  may  fondly  think 
that  he  shall  succeed  in  so  shedding  around  the  principal 
matters  of  faith  the  splendour  of  secular  eloquence,  as  shall 
charm  classic  ears,  and  enable  him  to  beguile  and  detain 
those  whom  he  could  not  simply  convince. 

Much  that  is  plausible  might  be  said  in  behalf  of  these, 
and  similar  methods  of  conciliation.  But  even  if  they  had 
not,  in  experiment,  proved  of  small  or  doubtful  utility,  a 
special  objection  would  re§t  against  them,  drawn  from  the 
peculiar  character  of  the  times.  The  movements  and 
workings  of  a  social  system  have  become  too  deep  and 
potent,  to  leave  room  for  operations  of  a  slender,  ambigu- 
ous, or  insinuating  kind.  We  are  come  to  no  easy  and 
gentle  mood  of  the  world's  history.  This  is  no  hour  of 


THE  CHURCH  AND  THE  WORLD.        65 

leisure  and  facility,  and  soft,  persuasion.  Whoever  dares 
not  speak  explicitly,  and  boldly,  had  belter  not  speak  at  all. 
Nothing  can  now  avail  the  cause  of  truth  but  the  courage 
which  truth  ought  to  inspire. 

The  middle  region,  or  neutral  ground,  on  which  a  mild 
haze  rests,  and  where  men  of  adverse  parties  might  amuse 
each  other  with  indistinct  and  interminable  parleys,  that 
having  no  serious  intention,  could  have  no  determinable 
result,  has  been  of  late  almost  entirely  deserted.  Strag- 
glers, and  the  idle  remain  there  ; — the  frivolous  and  the 
infirm.  But  men  of  vigour  (of  all  parties)  have  gone  off, 
and  taken  another  position ;  have  severally  moved  forward, 
at  quick  pace,  on  the  course  toward  which  they  had  been 
looking,  at  leisure.  The  adherents  of  the  Gospel  must 
then  either  forfeit  all  chance  of  a  hearing,  or  act  with  a 
correspondent  energy  and  promptitude.  If  in  any  time, 
during  the  course  of  ages,  there  has  been  need,  on  the  part 
of  Christians,  of  that  boldness  which  walks  abreast  with 
truth  and  wisdom,  this  is  such  a  time.  And  it  is  now  that 
whatever  is  capital  and  essential  in  Christianity  should  be 
clearly  and  strenuously  affirmed.  And  now  it  is  (how 
unutterably  desirable  !)  that  whatever  overloads,  encum- 
bers, defaces,  our  faith,  should  be  thrown  aside.  The  day 
we  have  to  pass  through  will  assuredly  prove  that  private 
loyalty  to  Christ  is  not  enough  for  the  champions  of  the 
Gospel.  Whoever  is  loaded  with  the  stuff  of  this  world — 
whether  interests  or  prejudices,  will  be  chased  from  the 
field,  or  fall  there  ingloriously. 

Those  must  have  allowed  themselves  to  think  confus- 
edly ;  or  have  scarcely  thought  at  all ;  or  have  been 
dealing  upon  dreams,  who  have  not  learned  what  is  the 
moral  condition  and  tendency  of  a  vast  mass  of  our  coun- 
trymen, perhaps  the  majority  of  almost  every  rank,  at  the 

7* 


66  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

present  moment.  And  if  indeed  any  are  thus  ignorant  of 
what  it  behoves  all  to  understand,  the  next  evolution  of 
the  social  body — the  natural  and  (unless  prevented)  in- 
evitable expansion  of  existing  causes,  will  amaze  them,  as 
if  it  were  the  most  unheard  prodigy.  It  is  thus,  usually, 
that  those  sudden  changes  which  the  historian  (benefited  as 
he  is  by  his  knowledge  of  after  facts)  sagely  speaks  of  as 
the  simple  consequence  of  precursive  events,  astound  the 
men  of  the  age  in  which  they  happen. 

A  certain  order  of  intelligence  (not  founded  on  principles, 
and  open  to  impulse  on  any  side)  has,  as  every  one  knows, 
gpread  rapidly  through  all  orders.  And  while  none  but 
the  lowest  or  most  degraded  class  has  failed  to  take  a  share 
in  this  advancement,  the  classes  next  in  elevation  to  the 
lowest  have  participated  therein  in  a  degree  which  bears 
no  proportion  to  any  improvement  that  has  had  place  in 
the  highest  class.  Those  who,  within  a  brief  period,  have 
stepped  forward  far  in  advance  of  their  late  position,  see 
well  that  the  interval  between  them  and  their  superiors 
has  been  lessened,  almost  to  the  whole  extent  of  their  own 
progress.  The  upper  rank  has  not  become  wise,  in  the 
proportion  that  the  inferior  has  become  knowing.  We 
need  be  no  great  proficients  in  human  nature  to  divine  the 
sentiments,  unconfessed  and  latent  perhaps,  which  such  a 
perception  will  engender  ;  and  yet  it  is  not  precisely  with 
these  sentiments,  or  with  the  consequences  they  are  likely 
to  involve,  that  we  are  here  concerned. 

The  statement  of  the  general  fact  of  the  intellectual 
advancement  of  the  people  is  now  trite  ;  nor  can  it  well 
be  called  in  question.  But  what  is  the  bearing  of  this 
state  of  things  upon  Christaiiity  ?  verily  we  believe  it  to  be 
favourable  ; — if  those  causes  are  taken  into  account  which 
lie  quite  beyond  the  range  of  secular  calculation.  But  far 


THE  CHURCH  AND  THE  WORLD.        67 

otherwise  if  secular  and  visible  causes  only  are  to  be  looked 
to  ;  and  it  is  with  these  alone  that  human  agency  is  con- 
nected. The  sad  truth  is  most  conspicuous,  that  though 
the  diffusion  of  knowledge  has  not  alienated  from  Christ- 
ianity those  who  were  already  effectively  acquainted  with 
it  (far  otherwise)  and  though  multitudes,  to  whom  the 
recent  light  has  scarcely  reached,  remain  nearly  where 
they  were,  in  matters  of  religion — that  is  to  say,  as  igno- 
rant of  it  as  Caffres  ; — there  is  a  great  body  of  the  people, 
of  every  class,  whom  it  has  served  to  detach  or  to  disaffect, 
or  to  prepare  for  any  sort  of  impiety.  And  yet  men  do 
not  very  readily  shake  off  even  the  prejudices  they  hold  in 
least  esteem ;  but  retain  them  as  habits,  and  look  to  them 
wistfully,  after  the  substantial  surrender  has  been  made. 
And  so  it  is  that  Christianity — its  formalities  at  least,  stands 
now  on  the  threshold  of  thousands  and  tens  of  thousands 
of  our  English  homes — melancholy  sight — like  an  offend- 
ed or  slighted  inmate — ready  to  depart  for  ever  ;  and  yet 
not  quite  resolved  to  go  ! 

Untaught,  unguided,  and  in  suspense  on  all  momentous 
subjects,  myriads  of  the  English  people,  who  have  learned 
to  think,  but  who  receive  no  sound  instruction,  listlessly 
contemplate  the  speckled  Christianity  of  our  times — uncer- 
tain what  part  to  choose  ;  and  therefore  actually  choosing 
the  part  of  impiety,  or  of  fatal  indifference.  Whither 
should  they  resort  ?  Not  (or  it  is  only  the  debauched  who 
will  do  so)  not  to  the  teachers  of  atheism  : — impudent  and 
frantic  men,  who  have  given  the  best  refutation  to  their 
folly,  by  their  enormities !  The  English  character  must 
fall  many — many  degrees  below  its  present  level,  before  it 
can  happen  that  large  masses  of  the  community,  or  any 
thing  but  its  scums  and  dregs,  shall  be  seen  to  circulate 
around  these  vortices  of  impurity  and  blasphemy. 


68  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

What  then  are  the  alternatives? — Shall  this  detached 
mass,  rife  as  it  is  with  conceit,  as  much  as  with  intelligence, 
quietly  yield  itself  to  be  moored  back  to  the  haven  of 
established  fornis,  to  which  it  has  already  become  strange  ? 
Shall  those  whose  prime  lesson,  in  all  that  has  been  taught 
them  of  late,  is,  that  whatever  is  ancient  is  therefore  faulty, 
accept  anew,  as  good  and  right,  a  system  which  the  lapse 
of  centuries  has  not  benefited  by  a  single  amendment  7  It 
were  well  if  it  could  be  so.  Would  to  God  that  the  erring 
of  dubious  thousands  of  the  people  might,  even  now,  and 
under  almost  any  condition,  fall  back  upon  the  Great 
Truths  which  the  Reformation  gave  us,  and  which  the 
National  Church  preserves  !  But  alas  !  can  we  seriously 
anticipate  such  a  movement  ? — In  a  sense  we  grant  it  to 
be  probable  : — those  who  hope  well  for  what  they  term — 
"  The  Church,"  are  thinking  only  of  the  most  meagre 
and  insincere  conformity.  This  is  all  they  care  for — all 
they  understand.  Now  nothing  absolutely  forbids  it  to  be 
supposed  that  the  classes  of  which  we  have  spoken  may 
continue  to  yield  an  external  and  occasional  compliance 
with  certain  national  religious  usages  which,  when  so 
complied  icith,  are  of  as  much  value  as  beads  and  holy 
water,  or  as  the  praying  windmills  of  the  Tartars.  This 
sort  of  Church  of  Englandism  may  perhaps  endure  a 
while  longer  : — Who  shall  sny  how  long  ?  But  are  we 
so  dull  in  understanding  as  to  wish  that  it  should  1  Do 
we  not  know  that  matters  of  ritual  which  may  have  some 
real  value  and  wholesome  influence  (though  not  of  the 
highest  kind)  while  a  people  are  in  a  simple  or  primitive 
state,  that  is  to  say,  while  they  are  ruled  by  sentiment — 
by  venerable  prejudice,  and  by  association,  cease  to  possess 
any  utility  after  sentiment  has  been  dispelled  by  the  spirit 
of  incredulity  and  mockery  ?  We  have  learned  nothing 


THE  CHURCH  AND  THE  WORLD,  j        69 

of  what  has  been  taking  place  of  late,  if  we  imagine  that, 
either  the  'squire,  or  the  citizen,  or  the  artisan,  who  now 
comes  up  to  the  altar,  or  attends  his  offspring  to  the  font, 
is  a  being  of  the  same  order  as  was  his  father  or  his  grand- 
father. Are  we  then  satisfied,  and  do  we  think  that  all  ia 
well  and  safe,  merely  because  the  'squire,  and  the  citizen, 
and  the  artisan,  still  bring  their  bodily  presence  to  church, 
even  though  we  know,  or  might  know,  that  instead  of  the 
heartiness  and  the  reverence  of  the  past  generation,  the 
bosoms  of  these  men  are  harbouring  contempt,  repugnance 
or  a  fixed  infidelity  ? 

Amazing  inobservance ! — if  we  can  suppose  that,  to  the 
people  such  as  they  have  actually  become,  it  can  avail  any 
thing  the  way  of  moral  or  religious  influence— to  frequent 
church  five  times  in  the  year— to  be  christened,  confirmed, 
married,  in  due  form ; — to  receive  the  sacrament  at  the 
last  exigency,  and  to  be  buried  as  believers.  The  nation 
has  gone  beyond  the  power  of  these  forms.  The  Parish 
Church  stands  where  it  did  ;  but  the  mind  of  the  country- 
has  escaped  from  between  the  sacred  walls.  Not  uni- 
versally indeed ;  far  otherwise  : — we  are  speaking,  not 
of  the  passive  and  sluggish  portion  of  the  the  community ; 
but  of  the  active,  and  sensitive,  and  intelligent — or  the 
half  intelligent.  And  ought  the  welfare  of  such  to  be  a 
matter  of  no  solicitude  ? 

But  even  if  the  slenderest  sort  of  conformity  were  all 
that  we  cared  for,  the  course  we  pursue  is  very  little  adapt- 
ed to  secure  it.  What  are  the  simple  facts? — In  the 
hearing  of  the  people,  the  original  defects  of  the  national 
forms,  and  the  abuses  that  have  grown  upon  the  establish- 
ment, have  lately  been  talked  of  with  the  utmost  freedom. 
The  people  have  listened,  while  men,  the  best  informed, 
and  the  most  moderate  (not  the  enemies  of  the  Church  but 


70  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

its  friends)  have  confessed  the  necessity  of  revision — have 
implored  attention  to  the  great  question  from  those  who 
should  first  take  in  hand.  But  all  this  discussion,  all  these 
entreaties  come  to  nothing  !  Nothing  may  be  hoped  for. 
Pertinacity  is  to  have  its  triumph — perilous  triumph  !  It 
is  a  point  of  honour  to  spurn  amendment.  To  change  an 
iota  would  be  to  acknowledge  that  the  Fathers  of  the  En- 
glish Church  were  not  inspired — were  somewhat  inferior 
to  the  Apostles.  That  which  indeed  is  venerable  and  good 
in  the  national  forms  and  modes  (and  it  is  much)  must  be 
put  in  peril  for  the  sake  of  enforcing  from  the  people  an 
irrationable  homage  to  certain  excrescences,  which  all  men 
inwardly  abhor  ! 

Such  are  the  infatuations  that  controul  human  affairs  ! 
Ruin  thus  wilfully  produced,  is  no  new  thing  ; — it  is  the 
common  order  of  events.  So  much  wisdom  as  might 
conserve,  rescue,  restore,  re-edify,  belongs  not  to  mankind  ; 
— and  for  want  of  it,  when  the  hour  of  peril  comes,  nations 
are  thrown  upon  revolution  and  anarchy.  And  yet  every 
thing  seems  to  invite  and  to  facilitate  that  line  of  proceeding 
which  the  times  call  for.  In  the  English  character  there 
is  not  only  sobriety  and  moderation,  but  a  singular  readi- 
ness to  greet  with  applauses  any  proof  of  good  intention, 
and  honesty,  and  intelligence,  in  persons  of  high  station. 
True — faction  is  always  awake  among  us ;  but  there  ia 
also  (and  in  the  great  mass  of  the  people)  a  prompt  and 
cordial  approbation  of  whatever  is  manifestly  well  meant 
by  governing  powers.  The  nation — that  is,  the  thousand 
to  the  one,  would  bear  aloft  upon-  its  shields  whoever 
would  now  act  for  it  the  part  of  courage,  and  prudence, 
and  conciliation,  in  matters  of  religion.  The  nation  would 
put  the  violent  and  the  captious  to  shame — yes,  and  it 
would  return  with  joy  to  the  walls  of  a  wisely  re-estabish- 
ed  Church. 


THE  CHURCH  AND  THE  WORLD.         71 

But  the  hope  of  any  such  restoration  is  fond  and  vain ! 
—While  the  people  are  daily  falling  off  from  Christianity, 
because  their  highest  welfare  is  not  thought  of — because 
their  actual  state  is  not  considered — because  the  salvation 
of  millions  of  souls  is  a  trivial  matter,  if  it  implies  the 
giving  up  of  this  or  that  childish  prejudice — while  these 
things  are  happening,  our  creeds  and  forms  shall  be  pre- 
served— to  a  tittle  :  and  to  secure  so  high  and  worthy  an 
end — to  secure  it  in  the  actual  state  of  the  country,  all 
the  corrupt  motives  of  acquiescence  must  be  doubly  stim- 
ulated :  the  people,  in  the  many  modes  which  state  policy 
is  skilled  in,  must  be  bribed  to  quietness  and  silence.  And 
especially,  they  must  be  taught  that,  in  matters  of  Religion, 
if  man  be  but  pleased — God  is  always  easy.  All  this 
must  be  done : — yes,  and  it  shall  prosper — if  the  Almighty 
has  consigned  us  to  desolation  !  And  is  it  so  then,  that  our 
sons,  and  theirs  again,  are  to  be  driven  down  the  steeps  of 
unbelief ;  because,  for  sooth,  the  jealousies  of  the  imbecile, 
and  the  emoluments  of  the.  corrupt,  must  not  be  touched  ! 

But  it  is  loudly  asked  in  another  quarter — Whether  the 
intelligent  thousands  of  the  English  people  might  not  do 
better,  or  have  not  an  alternative,  besides  that  of  bowing 
to  infidelity,  or  of  cringing  to  an  establishment  which  will 
listen  to  no  reproofs  ? — Difficult  question  !  or  difficult  un- 
less we  are  willing,  and  able,  fairly  to  place  ourselves  for  a 
moment  in  the  position  of  the  persons  of  whom  we  are 
speaking — the  intelligent,  yet  imperfectly  informed,  and 
irreligious,  of  all  ranks.  If  from  that  position  we  look 
Abroad  upon  the  many-coloured  array  of  our  religious 
parties,  we  shall  instantly  cease  to  wonder  that  Christianity 
in  England  has  as  little  reason  to  boast  of  extensive 
triumphs  under  its  simplest,  as  in  its  most  elaborate  forms. 
The  grand  mischief  whenever  we  are  endeavouring  to  as- 


72  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

sail  the  prejudices  of  others  is  this — that  we  do  not,  or  will 
not,  consider  the  light  in  which  ourselves,  and  our  attempts, 
appear  to  them.  It  is  too  much,  to  expect  that  our  unin- 
formed neighbours,  or  our  countrymen  at  large,  should 
make  themselves  conversant  with  that  prodigious  mass  of 
theological  lore  which  must  be  known  before  any  one  can 
fully  and  fairly  appreciate  the  justificatory  argument  of 
each  of  our  sects.  To  exculpate  each — to  respect  each,  a 
man  must  be  familiar  with  the  circumstances  of  the  times 
wherein  it  originated  ;  he  must  be  master  of  the  merits  of 
many  entangled  controversies,  and  must  fairly  and  calmly 
estimate  the  mutual  influence  of  sect  upon  sect.  Not  a  whit 
less  labour  and  diligence  is  necessary  for  correctly  measur- 
ing the  respective  claims  of  religious  parties,  than  would 
make  a  man  erudite  in  the  most  multifarious  of  the 
sciences.  Nothing  of  this  sort  can  reasonably  be  looked  for. 

Meanwhile  the  intelligent,  and  the  half  intelligent — the 
few  who  are  thoroughly  well  informed  on  all  subjects — 
except  religion ; — and  the  myriads  who  now  know  some- 
thing; of  many  sciences,  but  nothing  of  this,  can  hardly  be 
blamed  if  they  take  up  a  notion  which,  though  substan- 
tially false,  is  apparently  rational.  Such  persons  (lamen- 
table case  !)  are  impelled  to  suppose,  either  that  Christianity 
is  so  indeterminate  a  system  that  its  most  careful  and  seri- 
ous adherents  are  unable  to  fix  its  meaning,  and  therefore 
that  it  is  well  to  keep  clear  altogether  of  the  anxious  per- 
plexities it  involves  ;  or — that,  by  some  fatality,  it  breeds 
a  spirit  of  trivial  scrupulosity,  productive  of  interminable 
discords.  It  will  be,  for  the  most  part,  utterly  in  vain  to 
assure  such  misjudging  spectators  that  their  idea  of  the 
religious  parties  is  incorrect  and  distorted.  The  ostensible 
fact  will  outweigh  all  explanations. 

Thus  it  is  that  the  souls  of  men  are  sported  with  on  all 


THE  CHURCH  AND  THE  WORLD.         73 

sides  !  How  little  do  we  consider  the  infinite  mischiefs 
we  occasion  when  we  give  indulgence  to  SMALL  MOTIVES 
in  matters  of  religion  ! — Would  to  God  that,  at  length, 
good  men  might  learn  to  calculate  all  the  consequences — 
remote  and  distant  perhaps,  but  immensely  important,  of 
that  theological  and  ecclesiastical  inflexibility,  by  which 
they  think  to  prove  their  loyalty  to  Christ !  Alas,  those 
for  whom  Christ  died  are  fixed  in  unbelief  by  the  spectacle 
of  this  same  immoveable  purity  !* 

Let  it  be  granted,  and  it  is  unquestionably  true,  that  the 
entrance  of  the  Gospel  into  the  human  heart  is  vehemently 
opposed  by  that  hostility  which  is  the  product  of  the  defec- 
tion of  the  race  ;  and  that  this  hostility  is  independent  and 
irrespective  of  any  exterior  disadvantage  under  which 
Christianity  may  labour.  Yes  ;  but  obstacles  of  this  in- 
trinsic sort,  which  have  always  to  be  encountered,  great  as 
they  may  be,  are  not  found  to  prevent  the  triumphs  of  re- 
ligion, where  its  spread  is  not  prevented  by  other  causes. 
The  Lord  vanquishes  his  own  foes  ;  and  he  does  so  with 
omnipotent  grace  and  ease.  To  break  and  subdue  the 


*  Our  sects  (the  principal  of  them)  are  the  product  of  the  same  era 
that  gave  us  our  Establishment :  and  the  one  form  of  Christianity 
is  just  the  antithesis  of  the  other.  If  the  advancement  ol  society  in 
the  course  of  three  centuries  renders  a  revision  of  the  one  indispen- 
sable ;  so  does  it  of  the  other.  Rocked  by  the.  winds  of  discord  in 
the  same  cradle;  though  always  at  variance,  Dissent  and  Conform- 
ity are  alike  antique;  and  while  both  happily  comprise  the  great 
and  unchanging  verities  of  the  Gospel ;  both  are  what  times  and 
men  have  made  them.  The  dissident  loudly  speaks  of  this  obsolete 
character  of  the  Church.  But  impartial  men  will  be  apt  to  think 
that,  if  we  ought  now  to  see  something  better,  or  more  mature, 
than  was  thought  of,  or  could  be  effected,  by  Cranmer,  Jewel,  Hook- 
er ;  a  like  revision  should  take  place  of  the  notions  and  institutions 
of  Brown,  Prynne,  and  Owen. 

8 


74  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

human  heart,  with  all  its  obduracy,  and  to  cleanse  it,  not' 
withstanding  all  its  impurity,  is  his  proper  work.  And  he 
glories  to  perform  it.  But  when  the  Gospel  comes  to  a 
stand,  or  sleeps  within  its  limits,  from  age  to  age  ;  or  only 
slowly  spreads  along  with  the  increase  of  population,  the 
cause  of  the  stagnation  is  to  be  found,  either  in  the  slug- 
gishness, the  feuds,  or  the  follies  of  the  Church ; — not  in 
the  universal  enmity  of  the  heart  to  God.  The  Lord  does 
not  interpose  to  overcome  that  hostility  or  contempt  which 
the  misconduct  of  his  people  calls  forth.  It  is  the  second- 
ary or  incidental,  far  more  than  the  primary  prejudices, 
that  hold  mankind  at  a  distance  from  truth.  We  refuse 
to  see  and  believe  this  ;  and  therefore  marvel  at  the  impiety 
and  obduracy  of  mankind  ;  when  nothing  is  more  con- 
spicuous than  its  proximate  cause. 

A  candid  review  of  the  entire  course  of  Church  history 
must  convince  any  one,  that  very  high  degrees  of  personal 
piety  and  virtue — piety  and  virtue  even  of  the  most  exalted 
order,  often  consists  with  a  participation  of  egregious  errors, 
of  that  sort  which  attaches  more  to  a  body  or  community 
at  large,  than  to  individuals.  This  truth  has  been  lost 
sight  of  in  every  age ;  and  in  our  own  times.  For  ex- 
ample ;  while  we  know  by  personal  consciousness,  and  by 
happy  fellowship  with  others,  that  Christianity  exists 
among  us  in  much  vigour  and  purity,  and  is  bringing  forth 
its  fruits  in  all  quarters  of  the  land,  we  repel  indignantly 
the  supposition  that  the  entire  Christian  body  may  be 
capitally  in  fault.  And  yet,  were  not  the  Jansenists,  and 
the  men  of  Port  Royal  Christians  ?  Were  not  Pascal  and 
Fenelon  men  of  God  ?  Well  were  it,  if  we  could  now 
match  them  in  elevation,  devotedness,  spirituality.  Never- 
theless, did  they  not  stand  forth  as  the  zealous  (not  the 
passive)  adherents  of  their  Meretricious  and  Idolatrous 


THE  CHURCH  AND  THE  WORLD.         75 

Church  ?  and  in  every  age  that  same  Church — collectively 
abominable  in  the  sight  of  Heaven,  has  embraced  on  her 
false  and  foul  bosom,  worthies,  in  whom  the  apostolic  age 
might  have  gloried. 

Is  it  not  then  a  culpable  delusion  which  would  impel 
any  party  to  resent  suppositions  of  the  kind  now  in  hand 
merely  because  piety,  fervent,  pure,  and  zealous,  is  seen  to 
be  flourishing  among  us  ?  How  much  of  that  piety  does 
the  world  know  any  thing  of?  The  world  enters  not  our 
closets :  knows  nothing  of  our  hearts ;  and  knows  but  little, 
even  of  the  exterior  behaviour  of  the  obscure  thousands 
who  must  adorn  their  profession.  But  it  sees,  and  knows, 
and  ruminates  upon,  our  visible  disagreements  : — it  meas- 
ures our  alienations ; — listens  to  the  din  when  angry  spirits 
wake  the  winds  of  strife  ;  and,  in  a  word,  discerns  what- 
ever is  discreditable  ; — is  uniformed  of,  or  incompetent  to 
appreciate,  whatever  is  true  and  good. 

Who  can  say  what  might  now  have  been  the  religious 
condition  of  England  if  our  several  dissident  communities 
had,  a  century  ago,  calmly  and  wisely  returned  to  the  path 
which  their  freedom  from  political  control  left  open  to  them 
— which  the  plain  rule  of  the  New  Testament  points  out ; 
and  which  common  sense  so  distinctly  approves  ?  Almost 
confidently  it  may  be  affirmed,  that  an  unbroken  harmony 
among  its  opponents,  must  have  compelled,  or  would  have 
induced,  the  Established  Church,  both  to  revise  its  forms 
and  constitutions  ;  and  to  rescind  its  ill-omened  demand  of 
an  unconditional  and  universal  approval  of  the  same,  as 
the  term  of  communion.  And  then,  on  the  other  side,  how 
much  such  a  proof  of  the  vigor  and  glory  of  the  Gospel  has 
affected  the  minds  of  the  mass  of  the  people  !  Our  faith 
in  Christianity  altogether  is  put  in  jeopardy,  if  we  hesitate 
to  believe  that  a  Harmonious  Church — freed  from  all 


76  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

secular  hostility,  or  restraint,  would  fail  to  spread  itself 
rapidly,  and  to  prevail. 

"  The  world  knoweth  us  not :" — sad  truth  ;  for  it  means 
nothing  less  than  this,  that  the  bulk  of  mankind  still 
remains  far  from  God  and  hope  ! — Sad,  even  when  the 
blame  of  this  ignorance  rests  altogether  upon  its  victims  ; 
but  how  ineffably  afflictive,  when  the  fault  is  shared,  in 
equal  portions,  between  the  world  and  the  Church  !  If 
this  age  of  dimness  is  soon  to  pass  away,  it  will  ere  long 
be  seen  that  the  Head  of  the  Church,  either  by  the  stu- 
pendous movements  of  his  providence,  or  by  conferring  in 
a  signal  manner  grace  and  wisdom  on  his  people,  removes 
from  it  that  reproach  of  culpable  folly  which  extenuates 
the  impiety  of  the  world. 


VII. 
STATE  OF  SACRED  SCIENCE. 

"  —  TViy  testimonies  are  my  meditation." 


An  obvious  distinction  leads  us  to  distribute  the  study  of 
Holy  Scripture  under  three  heads  ;  namely — 1st,  The 
devout  and  practical ;  2nd,  The  critical,  or  verbal ;  and 
3rd,  The  scientific,  or  theological.  If  the  first  of  these  be 
wanting,  there  is  no  piety  at  all,  and  no-  virtue  in  the 
church  :  if  the  second,  no  certitude  ;  no  good  sense  ;  no 
barrier  against  extravagance,  heresy,  or  infidelity  :  if  the 
third  be  at  a  low  ebb,  there  is  no  intelligence  ;  no  advance- 
ment, and  therefore,  by  necessity,  a  retrogression  and  decay 
in  that  kind  of  knowledge  which  should  furnish  guidance 
and  motive,  both  to  devout  and  critical  studies  ;  and  which 
especially  should  gather  in  the  fruit  of  the  latter. 

Of  the  first  of  these  branches  of  biblical  study,  it  may 
be  said,  that 'if  it  does  not  at  present  signally  flourisIT, 
neither  is  it  remarkably  deficient.  The  second  is  the  spe- 
cific praise  of  our  times  :  and  waits  only  for  the  aid  it 
should  receive  from  the  third,  to  reach  perhaps  its  acme. 
Of  the  last,  nothing  can  be  affirmed  that  is  very  encour- 
aging ;  unless  it  be  the  negative  advantage  (and  this  is  a 
real  one)  that  the  room  it  should  occupy  stands  vacant. 

It  is  a  law  of  the  intellectual  world — That  the  mental 
connexion  between  words  or  customary  phrase?,  and  the 
ideas  or  notions  they  represent,  tends  incessantty  to  disso- 
lution ;  and  that  the  rate  of  this  dissolution  is  accelerated, 
or  retarded,  in  proportion  to  the  frequency  with  which 

'  8* 


78  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

Biich  words  and  phrases  ^ass  over  the  lips  of  mankind. 
This  gravitation,  which  bring  the  heavier  substance 
(knowledge)  down,  as  a  residuum,  and  leaves  the  lighter 
(language)  to  float  as  a  frothy  crust  on  the  surface,  is  to  be 
counteracted  only  by  continual  agitation  of  the  mass. 
Illustrations  of  this  law  are  abundant  in  every  department 
of  philosophy.  Let  it,  for  instance,  be  supposed,  that  at  a 
certain  period,  metaphysical  studies  are  eagerly  pursued  ; 
— that  the  energies  of  many  vigorous  minds  are  intently 
concentrated  upon  them  ; — that  multitudes  of  the  educated 
class  make  themselves  familiar  with  the  rival  systems  that 
are  promulgated  ;  anfl  that,  as  a  consequence  (whether  or 
not  truth  be  ascertained)  the  entire  vocabulary  of  abstract 
science  passes  under  deliberate  review,  receives  new  modi- 
fications, and  is  issued  afresh,  like  a  coinage,  in  full  weight, 
duly  assayed,  and  with  a  sharp  image,  and  resplendent 
surface. 

Now  if  it  should  happen  that  this  study,  so  revived  and 
invigorated  as  to  tighten  anew  the  bonds  that  connect 
words  with  ideas,  does,  after  being  consigned  to  books,  dis- 
appear in  the  very  next  age  ;  or  is  cherished  and  trans- 
mitted only  by  a  small  number  of  the  learned  class — in 
that  case  the  men  of  an  afier-age  may  find  it,  as  it  was 
left,  and  where  it  was  left:  and  may  bring  abroad  the  long 
latent  science  in  all  its  beauty  and  precision. 

But  let  us  imagine,  on  the  contrary,  that  this  same  met- 
aphysical philosophy  had  gone  down  to  the  next  age,  and 
then  to  the  next,  in  all  its  popularity  ;  and  had  continued, 
as  at  first,  to  constitute  the  ordinary  topic  of  converse 
among  well-informed  persons  ;  and  yet  had  not,  in  all  that 
time,  drawn  to  itself  any  renewed  energy,  from  powerful 
minds? ;  but  that  each  generation,  transmitting  what  it  had 
received,  imparted  to  it  no  reanimation.  The  inevitable 


STATE  OF  SACRED  SCIENCE.  79 

consequence  would  be  that  the  principles,  axioms,  deduc- 
tions, distinctions,  and  modes  of  proof  which  we  should 
find  on  all  men's  tongues,  would  be  on  their  tongues,  only. 
And  not  only  would  it  appear  that  distinct  ideas  and  no- 
tions had,  to  a  great  extent,  subsided  from  the  popular 
mind  ;  but  that  such  as  were  retained,  bore  extremely 
little  resemblance  to  those  that  belonged  to  the  original 
science.  For  though  men  had  ceased  to  work  upon  the 
philosophy,  Nature  and  Time  had  been  busy  with  it,  and 
had  imposed  upon  it  many  strange  modifications. 

The  history  of  Science  has  many  times  verified  the 
operation  of  these  laws  ;  and  indeed  the  revolution  only  of 
a  few  years  is  often  enough  to  exhibit  their  influence.  Let 
but  some  hotly  agitated  question  of  policy,  or  political 
economy,  cease  to  be  vigorously  treated,  and  yet  continue 
to  be  matter  of  common  conversation  ;  and  we  shall  find, 
in  ten  years,  or  seven  ; — perhaps  in  three,  that  words, 
phrases,  and  wonted  forms  of  expression,  on  such  subjects, 
have  slipped  their  meaning ;  and  being  disburdened  of  the 
weight  which  once  they  carried,  have  taken  the  wing,  and 
float,  vague,  and  idle,  in  upper  air. 

Scriptural  knowledge  is  open  to  the  same  influence  ;  but 
happily  not  to  the  same  extent ;  or  rather,  not  without 
powerful  correctives.  For  although  religious  principles 
undergo,  a  far  more  extended  pervulgation  than  those  of 
any  secular  science,  they  arise  fresh  from  the  spring-head 
more  readily  and  copiously,  than  any  other  truths.  Nor 
should  we  omit  to  include,  or  fail  to  take  great  account  of, 
that  perpetual  and  invisible  agency  from  above,  which 
maintains  always  the  connexion  (more  or  less  complete) 
between  piety  and  truth  ;  so  that,  even  when  sacred 
knowledge  is  at  the  lowest  ebb,  as  a  science,  or  is  almost 
wholly  neglected  by  men  of  intelligence,  it  lives  essentially 
wherever  faith,  humility,  and  prayer,  are  found. 


80  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

That  portion  of  Heavenly  Wisdom  which,  under  such 
circumstances,  survives  and  is  cherished,  will  be  just  the 
first  articles  of  belief — the  SAVING  RUDIMENTS*  of  spirit- 
ual life.  Of  these,  the  Head  of  the  Church  himself  takes 
care  lest  faith  should  utterly  disappear  from  the  earth.  But 
beside  the  inestimable  jewel  of  elementary  knowledge — the 
price  of  which  can  never  be  told  ;  does  there  not  rest 
within  the  folds  of  the  Inspired  Book  an  inexhaustible 
store,  which  the  industry  of  man  (piously  directed)  ought 
to  elicit ;  but  which,  if  men  neglect  it,  the  Lord  will  not 
force  upon  their  notice  ?  It  is  this  hidden  treasure  which 
should  animate  the  ambition  of  vigorous  and  devout  minds. 
From  such,  at  second-hand,  the  -body  of  the  faithful  are  to 
receive  it,  if  at  all :  and  if  not  so  obtained  for  them,  and 
dealt  out  by  their  teachers,  nothing  will  be  more  meagre, 
unfixed,  almost  infantile,  than  the  faith  of  Christians. 

A  consideration  of  many  circumstances  (some  secular, 
some  ecclesiastical)  and  of  circumstances  independent  one 
of  another,  is  involved  in  a  question  relative  to  the  present 
state  of  the  scientific,  or  theological  knowledge  of  the  Scrip- 
tures. Without  pretending  to  treat,  at  large,  so  great  a  mat- 
ter, we  shall  casually  mention  some  points  that  first  present 
themselves. 

At  a  time  when  the  Christian  community  is  not  in  any 
sense  secluded :  is  not  defended  in  purity,  or  compacted 
by  the  overt  hostility  of  the  world,  it  is  natural  that  the 
spirit  of  the  Church  should  be  nearly  one  and  the  same 
with  the  common  spirit  of  the  age.  And  if  we  ask,  Why 
do  not  the  higher  and  more  recondite  themes  of  sacred 
knowledge  receive  the  profound  attention  of  distinguished 
men,  and  from  them  descend  to  the  mass  of  Christians  ? — 

*  Heb.  v.  12. 


STATE  OP  SACRED  SCIENCE.          81 

it  is  both  just  and  natural  to  reply — Because  nothing  that 
is  profound,  recondite,  or  great  and  arduous,  in  any  line, 
commands  much  respect,  or  absorbs  the  energies  of  eminent 
minds. 

It  has  now  become  trite  to  announce  the  fact  that  ours 
is  the  age  of  diffusion,  abatement,  mediocrity  :  and  while 
the  philanthropist,  as  he  justly  may  (to  some  extent)  tri- 
umphs in  the  course  which  the  human  mind  is  taking,  few 
stop  to  calculate  the  remote  consequences  of  the  course  ; 
or  ask  what  may  be  its  immediate  but  less  obvious  results. 

If  a  complete  analogy  subsisted  between  the  worlds  of 
matter  and  mind,  there  would  be  a  palpable  reason  always 
for  exulting  in  the  levelling  of  eminences ; — an  operation 
which  (mathematicians  tell  us)  elevates  the  general  surface 
whereon  lately  they  stood  :  but  the  inference  from  the  one 
system  to  the  other  is  fallacious ;  or  at  least  imperfect.  The 
fact  is  certain,  that  this  age  of  warfare  upon  whatever  is 
exclusive,  or  select,  this  day  of  "  scattering,"  not  of 
"  gathering,"  is  singularly  wanting,  as  might  have  been 
anticipated,  in  those  higher  qualities  and  manifestations  of 
the  human  mind  which  refuse  to  be  doted  out  and  shared 
among  the  many.  The  INDIVIDNAL  POAVER  which  his- 
tory fondly  looks  to  disappears.  The  history  of  our  times, 
when  it  shall  come  to  be  compiled,  will  be  that  of  masses, 
not  of  persons  ;  of  communities,  not  of  leaders. 

Now  after  all  has  been  granted  that  can  be  said  in  re- 
commendation of  this  order  of  things,  it  remains  to  ask, 
whether  an  unbounded  expansion  of  the  energies  of  the 
intellectual  world  does  not  bring  with  it  a  probable  decay 
and  decline  of  each  power  ?  There  are  those  who  will 
affirm  the  contrary ;  and  will  tell  us  that,  in  matters  of 
mind,  diffusion  is  accumulation :  and  participation  en- 
hancement. Our  sons  will  be  able  to  pronounce  upon 


82  SATURDAY   EVENING. 

this  problem  more  certainly  than  ourselves":  meanwhile  it 
must  be  admitted  that  those  productions  or  discoveries 
which  most  ennoble  humanity,  or  enlarge  our  sphere  of 
thought,  sentiment,  or  action,  are  not  germinated  on  the 
surface  ;  are  not  concocted  abroad  ;  rise  not  from  the  fer- 
mentation of  rude  masses  ;  but  come  from  the  secrecy  of 
individual  bosoms  ;  and  do  not  bless  the  world  until  after 
they  have  reached  some  maturity  in  their  womb  and 
cradle. 

Nature,  it  is  probable,  bestows  upon  mankind,  from  age 
to  age,  a  nearly  equal  measure  of  intellectual  power.  But 
the  splendid  instances  of  original  endowment  make  their 
appearance  or  not ; — rise  to  the  surface,  or  remain  buried 
in  the  soil,  according  to  the  temperament  of  the  times. 
And  if  prevailing  barbarism,  and  civil  anarchy,  and  a  taste 
for  war,  repress  or  destroy  the  germs  of  mind  ;  it  is  also 
true  that,  in  eras  of  boasted  advancement,  and  universal  or 
general  refinement,  they  may  fail  to  be  evolved,  from  the 
want  of  shelter,  of  peculiarity,  of  privilege,  and  of  the  con- 
centration of  exciting  causes.  Genius,  as  it  has  often  been 
said  (and  we  may  include  every  species  of  high  mental 
power)  flourishes  most  midway  between  the  two  extreme 
points  of  social  advancement ;  or  just  in  that  stage  of  its 
progress  where  the  few  possess  the  greatest  possible  advan- 
tage over  the  many,  consistently  with  that  degree  of  intel- 
lectual life  in  the  many,  which  opens  a  field,  and  affords 
motive  to  the  ambition  of  the  few.  Europe,  as  it  seems, 
has  already  gone  through  that  bright  middle  season  ; — 
has  given  birth  to  her  complement  of  illustrious  men  ; — has 
done  with  the  admiration  of  CHIEFS  ;  and  will  hence- 
forth move  forward,  in  mass,  by  the  force,  and  under  the 
guidance  of  the  COMMON  MIND. 

The  true  character  of  the  age  is  not  incorrectly  indicated 


STATE  OP  SACRED  SCIENCE.  83 

(indeed  is  very  fairly  represented)  by  the  style  of  our 
literature:  and  the  style  of  our  literature,  and  the  influencea 
to  which  it  is  subjected,  are  so  intimately  connected  with 
the  state  of  theological  studies,  that  they  demand  special 
consideration. 

The  extension  of  knowledge,  and  the  incalculable  multi- 
plication of  readers,  has  effected,  in  an  indirect  manner,  a 
revolution  in  literature  as  complete  as  that  produced  by  the 
invention  of  printing,  though  less  conspicuous.  The  sim- 
ple circumstance  that  books  have  become  one  of  the  most 
considerable  articles  of  commerce,  has  reversed  the  direction 
of  the  influence  of  which  the  press  is  the  medium.  Our 
literature  is  commanded,  or  controlled,  by  the  people  ;  and 
only  in  a  secondary  sense  commands  them.  The  READER 
has  grown  into  an  importance  that  makes  him  lord  of  the 
WRITER.  Authors  furnish  (how  should  they  do  other- 
wise) that  which  readers  ask  for  ;  or  will  receive.  Until 
of  late,  and  in  all  informed  communities,  men  of  high  en- 
dowments exercised,  in  their  several  departments,  a  sort  of 
domination  perhaps  more  exempt  than  any  other  from  the 
reaction  of  the  governed  upon  the  governing  power.  Not 
absolutely,  but  yet  in  a  great  degree,  mind  has  wrought 
alone ; — has  produced  its  fruits  spontaneously  ;  and  has 
confided  those  fruits,  without  fear  and  without  care,  to  the 
admiration  and  conservation  of  mankind.  For  the  better 
or  the  worse,  writers  have,  in  all  ages  but  our  own,  been 
the  leaders  of  the  intelligence  of  the  world. 

We  speak  of  this  new  order  of  things  at  large,  and  in 
its  essential  character,  without  denying  the  many  excep- 
tions and  mitigations  to  which  it  is  open. — But  if  a  plain 
iact  is  to  be  spoken  of  in  plain  terms  it  is  this,  that  Books 
have  at  last  thoroughly  come  under  the  laws  that  regulate 
the  quantity,  quality,  fashion,  form  and  colour,  of  silks, 


84  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

potteries,  furniture,  jewels,  and  other  articles  of  artificial 
life.  Now  who  does  not  know  that  the  purchaser  of  any 
such  commodity  must  (whatever  special  circumstances  may 
seem  to  disguise  the  fact)  stand  in  the  relation  of  Master  to 
the  manufacturer,  the  artist,  the  workman?  The  excep- 
tions to  the  rule  are — when  the  production  is  of  so  rare  or 
peculiar  a  kind  that  a  monopoly  is  enjoyed  by  the  few  who 
can  appear  as  venders : — or  when  the  demand  is  so  limit- 
ed that  the  traffic  escapes  the  notice  of  the  spirit  of  Trade : 
and  so  enjoys  a  sort  of  snug  liberty,  under  shelter  of  its 
mere  insignificance.  Both  these  circumstances  have,  in 
former  times,  protected  literature  from  the  interference  of 
commercial  motives.  Neither  of  them  is  now  in  operation. 

Whatever  is  important  enough  to  attract  to  itself  a  large 
and  fair  proportion  of  the  capital  of  a  country  must,  spite 
of  the  sensitiveness  or  high  sentiments  of  any  of  the  parties 
concerned,  yield  obedience  to  the  paramount  principles  of 
commerce.  It  is  an  illusion  to  suppose  that  any  very  ex- 
tensive or  permanent  exemptions  from  the  laws  of  trade, 
can  have  place  in  matters  of  trade.  Mind  struggles  much 
against  these  mighty  powers  ;  and  writhes  under  their  tyr- 
anny :  but  its  resistance  is  successful  only  in  single  in- 
stances ;  or  for  an  hour.  Our  modern  literature  has  ONE 
REASON,  and  of  this  reason  the  buyer  is  the  sovereign  ; 
and  the  vender  the  interpreter ;  and  the  writer  the  slave. 

When  therefore  a  boast  is  made  (and  it  is  a  well-founded 
boast)  of  the  incalculable  increase  of  general  intelligence, 
and  of  the  spread  of  taste  and  knowledge,  two  conditions 
of  this  improved  state  of  things  should  be  kept  in  mind  ; — 
namely,  the  present  or  immediate  effect  of  it  upon  the  pro- 
ductive class ;  and  its  probable,  we  might  say  certain 
effect  upon  the  next  age.  As  it  would  be  an  absurd  pet- 
ulance to  repine  at  that  course  of  things  which  none  can 


STATE  OF  SACRED  SCIENCE.  85 

tugi,  and  which  confers  benefits  upon  myriads  ;  so  would 
it  be  absurd  to  suppose  that  a  literature  thus  overruled  by 
the  myriad,  should  continue  to  be  the  same  in  quality  as 
it  was  in  classic  eras,  when  it  led  the  taste  of  the  smallest 
and  most  select  portion  of  the  community.  Can  we  indeed 
believe  that  a  revolution  effected  under  influences  such  as 
we  have  named,  will  be  altogether  favourable  in  its  results? 

The  change  that  has  occurred  not  only  affects  the  style 
of  writing,  and  the  choice  of  subjects ;  but  the  ultimate 
motives  and  purposes  of  authors  : — controuls  their  princi- 
ples, or  destroys  them ;  and  even  more,  it  determines,  in 
a  great  degree,  what  individuals  shall  exercise  the  function 
of  authorship ;  and  what  be  restrained  from  doing  so. 
Those  who,  under  the  ancient  order  of  things,  would  have 
written  from  spontaneous  impulses,  and  at  the  call  of  direct 
motives,  and  who  would  have  occupied  the  arena  almost 
alone,  stand  now  in  a  position  essentially  unlike  that  of 
their  more  fortunate  predecessors.  For  not  only  have  they 
to  sustain  a  dubious  comparison  with  competitors,  more 
likely  than  themselves  to  win  immediate  applause ;  but 
the  utmost  degree  of  success  which  they  are  likely  to  obtain, 
consisting  in  the  admiration  of  a  small  class  in  their  own 
and  other  countries,  now  appears  so  mean  a  thing  by  the 
side  of  vulgar  celebrity,  that  it  takes  to  itself  the  shame  of 
positive  failure.  The  peril  of  this  sort  of  disgrace  outweighs 
(it  is  probable)  in  some  highly  gifted  minds,  the  ambition 
of  distinction,  and  retains  them  in  obscurity. 

While  we  are  rejoicing  in  the  numerous  band  of  accom- 
plished men  who  so  ably  occupy  the  press ;  we  should 
pause  and  ask,  whether  some  of  its  legitimate  masters  are 
not  holding  back,  and  refusing  to  exercise  their  function. 
It  may  moreover  fairly  be  questioned  whether  the  order  of 
nature  is  followed,  or  abandoned,  when  the  contact  of 

9 


86  SATURDAY 

writers,  in  the  highest  departments,  with  the  imperfectly 
educated  classes,  is  immediate*     Heretofore  it  has  been, 
that  the  slowly  matured  products  of  great  and  tranquil 
spirits,  afier  passing  through  minds  of  the  next  rate,  have 
been  disseminated  over  the  wider  surface  of  society  by 
their  means.     Now  it  is  plain  that  what  is  written  and 
intended  for  the  class  of  instnicters,  will  be  very  unlike 
that  which  is  prepared  directly  for  the  instructed. — It  is 
indeed  always  well  that  writers  should  labour  to  attain  per- 
spicuity, and  simplicity,  and  vivacity  ;  but  it  is  well  when 
they  feel  themselves  compelled  (as  in  terror)  to  avoid  what- 
ever supposes  in  the  reader  high  culture  and  intelligence  ? 
It  would  however  be  a  culpable  inadvertency  not  to 
mention   the  reaction,  or  rather  interaction,  which  at 
present   is  going   on   between   readers   and    writers.     If 
writers  have,  too  much  become  the  obsequious  servants  of 
a  slenderly-informed  multitude,  it  is  also  true  that  while- 
they  are  anxiously  mindful  of  their  master's  wishes,  and 
careful  not  to  offend,  and  especially  not  to  perplex  him, 
they  reconcile  themselves  to  the  degradation  the)'  undergo 
by  striving  to  dignify  their  labours  with  as  much  abstract 
excellence  as  may  consist  with  popularity.    By  this  lauda- 
ble ambition  the  taste  of  the  public  is  improved  ;  and,  as  a 
natural  consequence,  a  still  better  commodity  than  at  first 
is  asked  for,  and  favourably  received.     This  amended  taste 
stimulates  again  the  endeavours  of  writers ;  and  it  is  hard 
to  say  where  the  continual  approximation  to  what  is  good, 
will  find  its  limit. 

Nevertheless  the  highest  fruits  of  mind  are  of  a  consti- 
tution far  too  delicate  to  be  thus  produced.  Under  the 
present  mercantile  regimen  the  diffusion  of  knowledge  may 
spread  much  wider  than  it  yet  has;  and  at  a  quicker  rate; 
and  a  certain  amount  of  intelligence  may  become  the 


STATE  OP  SACAED  SCIENCE.  87 

common  property  of  the  people :~— but  is  there  not  reason 
to  predict  the  non-appearance  of  works  that  might  descend 
to  distant  ages  ?  Arid  as  the  experiment  is  new,  it  remains 
to  be  seen  whether,  even  general  intelligence  can  be  long 
upheld  while  decay  is  taking  place  in  the  higher  depart- 
ments of  literature ; — whether  the  mind  of  a  people  can  be 
kept  alive  at  all,  on  the  democratic  principle  ; — whether, 
in  a  word,  the  course  we  are  running  on,  though  crowded 
with  gaiety  and  stir,  is  not  leading  to  the  depression  of 
learning,  taste,  and  philosophy. 

Whatever  may  be  the  anticipations  we  form  on  this 
subject,  they  would  but  imperfectly  hold  good  in  matters 
of  Religion  ;  for  the  rise  and  fall  of  religious  feeling  and 
knowledge  are  determined  by  powers  (divine  and  human) 
that  lie  quite  beyond  the  sphere  of  the  causes  we  have 
adverted  to.  In  reference  therefore  to  this  class  of  litera- 
ture, we  are  safe  only  while  looking  to  actual  facts  ;  and 
must  leave  futurity  untouched.  And  even  in  reference  to 
what  is  under  our  immediate  observation,  great  exceptions 
must  be  reserved  in  favour  of  what  does  not  shew  itself  on 
the  surface  of  the  religious  world  : — we  well  know  that  all 
that  is  purest  and  best  lies  in  the  deepest  obscurity.  If  it 
were  not  so,  it  would  be  disheartening  indeed  to  remember 
that  religious  literature,  far  from  being  exempt  from  the 
law  of  trade,  is,  in  some  respects,  more  directly  subject  to 
that  infelicitous  despotism  than  any  other  branch.  But 
counteractive  causes  are  powerful,  and  always  at  work  ; 
and  it  is  happily  by  no  means  true  that  religious  books  are 
nothing  better  than  what  the  commercial  influence  would 
make  them. 

The  actual  operation  of  the  existing  economy  of  the 
literary  world  upon  religious  books,  is  to  be  discerned  more 
in  its  negative  than  in  its  postive  effects.  That  is  to  say, 


88  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

though  our  theological  and  devotional  publications  are  not 
so  much  vitiated  by  the  interference  of  commercial  motives 
as  might  have  been  anticipated,  these  causes  act  directly 
(in  combination  with  others)  to  discourage  and  repress  that 
higher  order  of  composition  which  the  Church  now  most 
stands  in  need  of,  and  which  the  venders  of  books,  with  a 
sure  foreknowledge  of  their  small  success,  are  wont  to 
frown  upon.  Works  which  would  slowly  and  surely 
benefit  the  mass  of  Christians  through  the  intervention, 
and  by  the  means  of  a  few  hundred  readers,  are  not  pror 
duced,  because,  on  the  existing  system,  they  cannot  be 
published  ;  or  if  published  would  be  lost  sight  of  in  the 
crowd  of  more  specious  candidates  for  public  favour. 

The  higher  class  of  religious  composition  is  moreover 
sensibly  acted  upon  by  another  influence,  of  which  it  is 
hard  to  say  whether  it  be,  on  the  whole,  most  sanatory  or 
injurious — invigorating  or  enfeebling  ;  namely,  the  publi- 
city, we  should  say  exposure  which  now  attends  the 
expression  of  religious  sentiments  through  the  press.  A 
book  is  of  course,  at  all  times  accessible  alike  to  all  pur- 
chasers— is  open  to  all  eyes.  But  there  have  been  but  few 
eras  in  the  Church  (probably  none)  in  which  religious 
writings  were  actually  so  much  placed  under  the  eye  of 
the  irreligious  as  now  they  are.  The  mode  and  organs  of 
this  exhibition  are  not  necessary  here  to  be  specified.  But 
the  influence  of  so  much  exposure,  though  not  always 
obvious,  is  not  unimportant.  Whatever  in  the  circle  of 
religious  publications  may,  by  the  aid  of  ingenious  perver- 
sion, be  employed  to  fortify  unbelief*— to  gratify  spleen,  or 
to  tickle  the  levity  of  irreligion,  seldom  escapes  the  quick 
sight  of  those  whose  bread  is  earned  from  week  to  week, 
from  month  to  month,  by  catering  for  the  malign  passions 
of  mankind,  or  its  prurient  frivolity, 


STATE  OF  SACRED  SCIENCE.  89 

*     *rf          A.V  '  •* 

Upon  whom  does  this  liability  to  exposure  press  with 
the  heaviest  disadvantage  ?  Not  upon  those  to  whom 
(rightly  understood)  it  might  be  most  serviceable.  There 
are  religious  writers  who,  far  from  being  daunted  by  this 
sort  of  publicity,  seem  rather  enheartened  by  it  to  give 
the  reign  to  their  taste  for  the  enormous  whims,  or  viru- 
lent excesses  ;  and  who  claim  the  praise  of  pious  valour 
in  setting  all  contempt  at  defiance.  There  are  too,  some, 
whose  happy  insensibility,  or  whose  sheer  forgetfulness  of 
things  around  them,  enables  them  to  speak  and  write  be- 
fore all  the  world,  as  if  the  walls  of  a  monastery  were 
between  them  and  mankind.  "*•**> 

But  it  is  not  so  with  others  ;  and  not  so  with  some  who 
best  might  reanimate  the  church  by  lofty  strains  of  sacred 
eloquence.  Feebleness  and  over-caution — a  latent  thought 
of  the  profane  world,  check  our  course  heavenward  ; — 
nothing  is  so  rare  in  religious  literature  as  the  boldness,  the 
freshness,  the  manly  force,  the  profundity,  the  elevation, 
which  give  a  charm  to  our  older  writers.  It  seems  as  if 
we  had  forgotten  that  as  the  hope  of  the  Gospel  must,  by 
the  necessity  of  the  case,  be  an  object  of  mockery  to  those 
whose  mad  devotion  to  the  present  life,  and  rejection  of  the 
future,  imply  contempt  of  whatever  is  true  and  great,  it 
is  as  well  to  meet  this  mockery  on  higher,  as  on  lower 
ground. 

While  the  modesty  and"  meekness  of  the  Christian  tem- 
per are  preserved,  what  is  so  becoming  to  the  public  advo- 
cate of  religion  as  the  highest  tone  of  confidence  and  fer- 
vour '{ — If  other  men  are  entangled  in  endless  surmises, 
or  deluded  by  futile  theories,  he  .mows  on  what  ground 
his  faith  rests.  He  knows  whom  he  serves  : — his  calcu- 
lations are  all  formed  on  a  clear  foresight  of  futurity.  On 
the  present  scene  of  things — its  eager  frivolities — its  childish 


90  SATURDAY   EVENING. 

impetuosities,  and  its  turbulence  and  its  virulence,  he  looks 
with  a  feeling  hard  to  designate  ;  for  it  is  not  contempt ; 
not  petulence  ;  not  indifference  ;  not  misanthropic  scorn  ; 
but  yet  gathers  something  from  each  of  these  emotions  ; 
and  has  the  force  of  all,  without  the  poison  of  any.  Of 
whom  should  the  public  and  well  instructed  advocate  of 
the  Gospel  be  afraid?  He  has  the  highest  truths  in  his 
possession  ;  and  is  hastening  on  (with  all  around  him, 
coadjutors  and  opponents)  to  the  hour  which  shall  well 
vindicate  the  part  he  has  chosen,  and  well  conclude  the 
course  he  has  run  ! 

It  is  the  want  of  a  fearless  and  aggressive  energy  which 
at  the- present  moment,  emboldens  infidelity,  staggers  the 
wavering,  and  leaves  the  ground  open  to  the  watonness 
and  the  impudence  of  visionaries.  How  great  a  revolution 
in  favour  of  Christianity  might,  under  the  conduct  of  the 
Divine  Spirit,  be  now  effected  by  the  intrepidity  of  a  single 
champion,  whose  courage,  firm  as  that  of  the  apostles, 
should  be  sustained  by  piety  and  wisdom  like  theirs  ! 

Partly  in  obedience  to  the  law  of  mediocrity,  which  rules 
-the  age,  and  partly  in  uneasiness  from  the  publicity  lhat 
attaches  to  religious  literature,  those  who  might  be  com- 
petent to  treat  the  loftiest  themes,  betake  themselves  to 
lower  ground,  where,  while  their  talents  and  accomplish- 
ments insure  them  distinction,  little  is  hazarded.  Matters 
of  fact  and  erudition  ; — all  things  minute,  definite,  and 
immediately  applicable  ; — the  fields  of  history — technical 
criticism,  and  ingenious  elucidation,  are  safe  and  facile. 
The  ephemeral  controversies  that  spring  from  collission  of 
our  religious  factions,  are  also  free  from  the  peculiar  peril 
which  weighs  upon  us.  And  happily,  too,  the  very  hum- 
blest style  of  devout  or  practical  exposition  is  exempt  from 
the  eye  and  interference  of  the  giant  criticism  we  tremble 


STATE  OF  SACRED  SCIENCE.  91 

at.     These  and  similar  topics  employ  therefore  superior 
minds. 

But  who  ventures  to  rise  toward  the  upper  region  of 
celestial  meditation  !  Who  forgets  the  world — its  madness, 
and  its  scorn,  while  he  enters  the  gates  of  immortal  hope  ? 
Who  is  it  that,  as  if  the  contenmers  of  Heaven  were  not 
in  hearing,  converses  with,  and  concerning,  the  glories  of 
the  Supreme  ?  Who,  with  a  reverent  yet  uncurbed  elo- 
quence, fitting  the  occasion,  speaks  of  the  mysteries  of  Re- 
demption ? — Or  who,  regardless  of  the  powers  of  calumny 
that  keep  their  state  as  ministers  of  vengeance  around  the 
throne  of  ancient  Prejudice,  explores  anew  the  half-hidden, 
half-revealed  wonders,  that  yet  couch  beneath  the  words 
of  the  Scripture  ?  Labours  like  these,  and  enterprises  so 
great,  demand,  in  times  such  as  our  own,  an  intrepidity 
equal  almost  to  that  needed  to  profess  the  Gospel  at  the 
stake  ! 

While  the  rudiments  of  truth  are  happily  preserved 
among  us,  there  never  has  been  an  age,  perhaps,  wherein 
less  of  the  intensity  of  the  meditative  faculty  was  concen- 
trated upon  sacred  themes,  than  at  present.  Our  biblical 
industry  is  all  devoted  to  the  letter  :  and  it  must  be  con- 
fessed that  exegetical  erudition  abounds  in  a  very  fair 
degree.  These  lower  studies  (indispensable  indeed)  fall 
in  marvellously  well  with  the  frigid  timidity  of  the  times, 
and  with  its  love  of  palpable  utility  : — they  run  glibly 
by  the  side  of  those  practical  and  applicatory  sciences  which 
are  receiving  universal  homage.  Professors  and  students 
of  theology  feel  to  be  quite  in  harmony  with  the  spirit  of 
the  age,  while  they  thus  confine  their  attention  to  matters 
of  fact — to  things  small  and  tangible,  and  ^j'bich  may  in- 
stantly and  visibly  be  carried  home  to  some  specific  point 
of  interpretation. 


92  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

Shall  we  then,  because  we  wish,  for  what  may  seem 
more  great  and  substantial  than  we  see,  invite  the  return 
of  some  one  of  the  obsolete  forms  of  theology  ?  Better 
lie  meagre  as  we  are,  than  be  so  enlarged.  And  yet  it 
must  be  admitted  that  those  ponderous  schemes  of  sacred 
philosophy,  though  they  spoiled,  in  their  turns  the  simplici- 
ty of  the  Gospel,  did  call  into  exercise  a  force  of  mind — a 
sustained  power  of  comprehension,  and  discussion,  which 
have  long  ceased  to  appear  within  the  precincts  of  the 
Church.  The  Platonic,  or  profound  and  meditative  theol- 
ogy, after  a  long  reign,  fell  before  the  activity  and  the 
tactics  of  the  Aristotlean,  or  logical  and  disputatious. 
This  again,  having  lived  to  its  dotaget  received  a  deadly 
wound  from  the  hand  of  the  Reformers  ;  who  erected  in 
its  place  its  IMAGE,  the  Dogmatic  theology  ;  and  to  this  all 
men  did  obeisance  : — and  still  in  measure  do  so ;  for  it  has 
neither  given  place  to  a  successor,  nor  been  formally  con- 
.  signed  to  oblivion.  Nevertheless  it  exists  rather  in  skeleton, 
to  fill  an  unclaimed  chair  of  state,  than  exercises  any 
positive  domination.  Nothing  rises  in  the  room  of  the 
ancient  systems.  There  is  silence  in  the  halls  of  Sacred 
Science,  as  if  all  men  were  waiting,  in  anxious  expectation 
of  the  descent  upon  earth  of  the  bright  and  fair  form  of 
Celestial  Wisdom. 

And  yel  this  meagerness  of  our  theology  has  its  pallia- 
tion, and  even  its  praise.  Who  would  exchange  the 
laborious  benevolence  of  our  times  for  the  intellectual 
power  of  past  ages  ? — It  is  the  just  commendation  of  the 
(spiritual)  Church  of  the  present  day,  that  it  prefers  the 
propagation  of  the  Gospel,  and  the  service  of  humanity,  to 
every  other  pursuit.  So  long  as  the  sad  reality  is  before 
us,  of  the  ignorance  and  irreligion  of  the  large  majority 
of  mankind,  nothing  (it  is  felt)  should  be  much  thought 


STATE  OP  SACRED  SCIENCE,  93 

of,  nothing  much  employ  our  energy,  but  the  great  and 
exigent  work  of  evangelizing  the  nations.  While  our 
brethren  of  mankind  are  untaught,  unblessed,  desolate, 
and  without  hope,  our  private  tastes  must  be  foregone,  and 
our  personal  advantage  delayed,  or  even  abandoned. 
Charity  demands  that,  leaving  untouched  the  hidden  trea- 
ures  of  the  sacred  volume,  we  hasten  to  carry  the  necessary 
bread  of  life  to  all  that  are  famishing.  There  is  a  true 
magnanimity  in  this  determination,  and  a  just  praise,  that 
ought  to  shield  from  rebuke  many  deficiencies.  Provided 
always,  that  such  deficiencies  are  properly  and  truly  attri- 
butable to  the  perpetual  assiduity  of  our  zeal. 

Even  if  the  labours  of  Christian  beneficence  do  not  fill 
all  hours,  and  all  days,  they  scarcely  allow  of  the  formation 
of  those  opposite  habits  which  are  demanded  by  arduous 
studies,  and  without  which  advancement  will  scarcely  be 
made  beyond  the  rudiments  of  evangelical  knowledge. 
The  temper  and  the  senpmVy  of  meditation  are  disturbed. 
Amid  engagements  differing  not  very  much  in  their  spirit 
from  those  of  common  business,  the  soul  is  thrown  from 
its  centre,  and  finds  it  hard  to  regain  its  equipoise.  Mean- 
while (and  it  is  to  be  noted)  the  public  and  sedulous  spirit 
of  the  religion"  of  the  day,  although  it  barely  admits  of 
the  growth  of  celestial  wisdom,  does  not,  in  the  same  de- 
gree, forbid  the  acquirement  of  matter-of  fact  erudition. 
This  sort  of  learning  may  well  enongh  be  accumulated 
in  any  temper  of  mind,  or  amid  any  distractions  ;  nor  can 
the  utter  want  of  it  be  well  excused  by  any  circumstances. 
There  is  therefore  an  intelligible  connexion  between  the 
increase  of  Biblical  or  textural  science,  and  the  decay  of 
the  higher  kinds  of  sacred  knowledge  ;  as  both  stand  re- 
lated to  the  distracting  quality  of  our  public  engagements. 

The  decline  of  Theology  is  favoured,  moreover,  by  in- 


94  SATURDAY   EVENING. 

cidenlal  causes,  which,  as  they  are  inseparable  from  human 
nature,  and  not  directly  blameworthy,  may  be  adverted  to 
without  offence.  Men  of  sense,  and  of  fair  information, 
well  know  that  there  are,  within  the  range  of  religious 
meditation,  subjects  which  cannot  with  much  hope  of 
advantage,  or  even  with  propriety,  be  made  matter  of  open 
converse  until  after  much  patient  and  private  consideration 
has  been  bestowed  upon  them.  They  ask  for  days,  or 
months,  of  devout  attention.  Too  ingenuous  to  stand 
forward  as  moderator  of  serious  discussions,  upon  matters 
of  this  sort,  without  the  prerequisite  competency,  he  who 
is  centre  of  his  circle,  and  who  feels  himself  responsible  for 
its  movements,  deems  it  a  point  of  discretion  to  hush,  or 
prorogue  conversation.  In  this  manner  religious  inter- 
course, even  in  the  best  circles,  takes  its  range  lower  than 
well  it  might.  On  the  one  part,  it  becomes  tacitly  a  rule 
(and  especially  while  so  much  extravagance  is  abroad)  to 
hold  all  great  or  exciting  themes  under  interdiction ;  and 
on  the  other  part,  a  point  of  good-breeding  and  deference, 
not  to  moot  any  such  questions.  There  is  left  open  what- 
ever is  most  trite,  vapid,  and  unimportant. 

But  that  kind  of  Discretion  which  seeks  safety  in 
ignorance  and  silence,  is  always  short-sighted,  and  fraught 
with  peril :  or  if  there  have  been  times  when  it  might  be 
put  in  practice,  this  is  not  such  a  time.  The  remarkable 
tendency  to  extravagance  and  exaggeration  which  distin- 
guishes the  present  era,  we  may  confidently  say  is  to  be 
encountered,  and  held  in  check,  only  by  free,  candid,  intel- 
ligent, Biblical  learning.  Cautions — interdictions — com- 
miuation  s,  will  not  serve  us ;  such  modes  of  treatment 
may  retain  within  (he  bounds  of  sobriety  those  who  are 
in  little  danger  of  being  seduced  from  it,  namely — the 
timid  and  the  sluggish  ;  but  will  only  hasten  the  departure 


STATE  Of  SACRED  SCIENCE.  95 

of  those  whom  we  shall  most  grieve  to  see  led  away.  It 
is  not  perhaps  unfair  to  regard  the  heresies,  and  the  follies, 
and  the  rancorous  conceits  that  are  now  preying  upon  the 
intestines  of  the  church,  as  the  natural  consequence  of  the 
unthoughtful}  and  unstudious  .habits,  that  have  ;grown 
upon  us.  During  now  a  long  course  of  years  we  have 
been  running  hither  and  thither — spending  our  days  in 
crowds  ; — have  lost  all  relish  for  mental  labour  ; — have 
abhorred  the  toil  of  private  meditation — have  applauded 
only  that  which  tends  to  maintain  and  promote  an  artifi- 
cial agitation  of  the  spirit.  We  deny  a  hearing  to  writers 
who  ask  to  converse  with  the  Reader  in  his  closet.  We 
have  become  thoroughly  superficial,  not  to  say  frivolous, 
in  matters  of  religion ;  or,  in  a  word,  have  reduced  oursel- 
ves to  a  condition  in  which  we  have  no  alternative,  but  to 
follow  every  egregious  phantasy  that  shews  itself,  or  to 
wrap  ourselves  in  the  thick  mantle  of  ignorance  and 
apathy.  Poor  preparation  this,  for  arduous  times  ! 

We  do  not  look  to  all  the  consequences  of  that  move- 
ment which  is  rapidly  going  on. — Whenever  the  Christian 
community  comes  to  be  pretty  evenly  divided  between  the 
adherents  of  a  servile  "  SOBRIETY,"  on  the  one  side,  and 
the  eager  votaries  of  novelty  on  the  other  ;  it  must  soon 
happen  that  all  high  belief  and  credulity  will  belong  to  the 
latter ;  while  a  disposition  hard  to  name — but  not  alto- 
gether unlike  Scepticism,  will  characterize  (or  secretly  in- 
fluence) the  former.  Visionaries  and  fanatics,  of  all  classes, 
feel,  as  if  by  instinct,  that  to  admit  any  sort  of  check  in 
their  course — to  listen  at  all  to  mere  reason — or  to  grant 
that  any  dogma  is  less  than  infallibly  certain,  is  to  lose 
hold  of  their  prop : — the  tumid  expansion  of  the  mind 
dwindles ; — a  mortal  chill  enters  the  heart ;  and  all  is  lost ! 
— Reckless  belief,  more  and  more  voracious  every  day, 


96  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

19  the  necessary  mode  of  this  order  of  feeling.  And  it  must 
be  granted  to  find  a  palliation  or  apology,  in  what  is  now 
happening  around  us,  when  a  bold  Atheism  in  one  quarter, 
and  the  spread  of  an  insidious  theological  infidelity  in 
another,  seem  to  make  unblenching  faith  the  capital  virtue 
of  a  Christian. 

Yet  who  does  not  know  that  exorbitant  credulity,  which 
overlays  Christianity  with  absurdities,  can  never  make 
head  against  unbelief?  Much  rather  does  it  promote  the 
mischief  it  oppugns.  This  at  least  is  clearly  seen  by  the 
"  discreet"  party  among  us  ;  and  the  inward  disgust  given 
them  by  the  vehemence  and  intemperance  of  many,  dis- 
poses them  to  entertain,  too  favourably,  the  modern  scepti- 
cal theory  of  interpretation.  It  is  not  that  this  theory  is 
accepted  or  accredited  ;  but  it  lodges  itself  in  our  closets  ; 
— is  spoken  with  in  secret ; — advice  is  asked  of  it  under 
difficulties.  Yes,  we  are  dealing  with  the  German  Infideli- 
ty, much  as  an  honourable  man  who  has  fallen  into  em- 
barrassments, holds  a  whispering  parley  at  a  private  door 
with  a  usurer,  whom  he  knows  to  be  plotting  his  ruin. 

The  truth  must  be  confessed,  that  the  foreign  Biblical 
criticism  severely  tries  our  English  orthodoxy.  It  tries  us 
not  because  it  is  strong  and  sound  ;  but  because  we  have 
not  in  readiness  either  that  exercised  power  of  mind,  or 
that  erudition,  with  which  it  should  be  encountered. 
There  is  indeed  a  bluff  pertinacity  which  is  a  proper 
defence  in  a  moment  of  surprise  : — but  it  must  be  used 
only  for  a  moment  ; — that  is,  only  until  we  can  assume 
our  weapons.  In  adopting  a  permanent  mode  of  repelling 
those  who  assail  our  convictions,  we  must  neither  take  a 
lesson  from  the  stupid  and  obstinate  animal  that  rolls  him- 
self up,  and  presents  his  globe  of  bristles  to  his  foe,  nor 
from  the  timid  one  that  runs  to  his  burrow  at  any  alarm. 


STATE  OF  SACRED  SCIENCE.  97 

If  indeed  we  cannot  rebut  German  infidelity  by  reason  and 
learning,  our  prospects  are  deplorable. 

Against  the  licentious  impiety  of  France,  which  blown 
high  by  the  winds  of  political  agitation,  broke  upon  our 
shores  forty  years  ago,  and  threatened  to  shatter  the  entire 
structure  of  our  Christianity,  we  were  (as  the  event  proved) 
pretty  well  provided.  We  understood  the  grounds  of  our 
faith,  as  then  assailed  ;  and  adhered,  not  blindly,  but 
intelligently,  to  our  principles.  France,  rife  with  profligate 
sophistry,  and  bold  by  ignorance,  challenged  us  tauntingly 
to  throw  off,  as  she  has  done,  the  "  obsolete  belief;" — and 
to  become,  like  her  young  sons — "  gods,  knowing  good 
and  evil."  But  we  understood,  far  better  than  herself,  the 
merits  of  the  question  : — we  looked  to  that  question 
manfully  ;  gained  new  convictions  ;  and  under  the  aid  of 
the  Divine  Favour  held  (in  the  main)  our  glory,  as  "  a 
nation  keeping  the  Truth." 

— And  we  still  hold  it ; — but  are  now  put  in  peril  by  a 
far  more  insidious  attack  upon  the  first  principles  of  faith. 
The  strength  of  the  French  infidelity  consisted  altogether 
(ribaldry  apart)  in  an  endeavour  to  supersede  the  proper 
question  of  historical  evidence,  by  mooting  abstract  contro- 
versies which,  if  determined  in  the  atheistic  sense,  would 
at  once  sweep  the  world  of  the  notion  of  immortality,  in 
whatsoever  manner  attested.  This  endeavour  failed,  part- 
ly because  of  its  intrinsic  absurdities  ;  but  chiefly  in  con- 
sequence of  the  insur  per  able  force  of  the  direct  proof  of 
the  Gospel  history,  which  men,  unless  infatuated,  could 
not  be  induced  to  forget.  But  we  are  now  deterred  from 
having  prompt  recourse  to  the  same  rational  and  efficacious 
means  of  defending  our  faith  in  miraculous  intervention, 
by  our  solicitude  to  listen  to  what  recommends  itself  by 
erudition  which  we  wistfully  admire,  and  dare  not  call  in 
10 


98  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

question.  Every  particle  of  the  German  infidelity  must 
be  scattered  to  the  winds-,  when  it  is  proved,  that  Jesus 
rose  from  the  dead.  We  fail,  or  delay  to  convince  ourselves 
on  this  capital  point ;  because  the  men  who  will  neither 
ingenuously  deny  it,  nor  candidly  admit  it,  are  able  to  en- 
tertain us  with  a  thousand  felicitous  elucidations  of  the 
evangelical  records,  such  as  we  had  not  dreamed  of. 

To  refuse  a  hearing  to  these  men  would  be  to  forego 
an  immense  benefit : — to  expose  their  error  in  the  manner 
it  demands,  would  seem  ungrateful :  or  it  would  ask  for 
more  energy  and  promptitude  than  is  found  among  us. 
Or  let  it  be  said,  that  we  are  disheartened  by  the  conscious 
want  of  that  original  erudition  in  which  the  foreign  pro- 
fessors excel.  Alas  !  we  have  to  import  learning  from 
Germany,  before  we  can  say  any  thing  to  its  sophistry  ! 

In  this  exigence  some  betake  themselves  to  a  rude  per- 
sistency in  whatever  they  have  heretofore  thought  to  be 
true  ;  whether  so  or  not ;  some  to  virulent  declamation 
against,  they  know  not  what  Demon — called  Neology  ; 
and  some  to  a  timid,  respectful,  inconclusive  armistice  with 
the  adversary  ;  the  result  of  which  must  be  advantage  to 
the  assailant,  and  loss  and  damage  to  the  weaker  side. 
Meanwhile  the  main  problem  of  German  Infidelity  is  not 
dealt  with  ;  and  there  is  reason  to  fear  that  the  full  effect 
upon  English  Christianity  of  that  idle  theory,  has  not  yet 
displayed  itself. 

But  it  is  not  altogether  improbable  that  the  course  of 
affairs  in  the  north  and  centre  of  Europe  may  so  set  at 
large  the  German  infidelity  as  shall  disabuse  our  English 
deference  towards  it : — Set  it  at  large — that  is  to  say, 
release  the  learned  stipendiaries  of  the  foreign  universities 


STATE  OF  SACRED  SCIENCE.  99 

from  the  embarrassment  they  labour  under  of  holding  their 
appointments  as  teachers  of  Christianity.  Here  and 
there  a  fond  dreamer  excepted.  men  will  not  go  on  toiling, 
year  after  year,  in  the  bootless  task  of  reconciling  things 
which  they  well  know  to  be  incompatible — except  from 
an  imperative  motive.  Provide  for  these  professors  liber- 
ally in  another  manner,  and  we  should  soon  cease  to  be 
either  instructed  or  annoyed  by  their  biblical  speculations. 
— Give  them  posts  and  emoluments,  on  some  other  con- 
dition, and  they  would  for  ever  leave  prophets  and  apostles 
alone.  Many  of  them,  no  doubt,  are  honourable  men,  and 
loathe  the  part  they  are  acting.  It  is  pity  that  their  ser- 
vices were  not  at  once  discharged  from  religion,  of  which, 
with  all  their  learning,  they  know  nothing,  and  concen- 
trated upon  general  literature,  which  they  might  promote 
and  adorn. 

Should  such  a  revolution  occur,  and  the  German 
Biblists  become  honest  unbelievers  ;  what  is  the  course  our 
English  divines  are  to  take?  Shall  they,  to  hide  more 
speedily  the  shame  of  their  late  deference  to  men  who 
made  a  jest  of  such  homage,  banish  from  their  shelves  and 
their  memories  for  ever  the  entire  mass  of  sceptical  criti- 
cism? This  would  be  pusillanimous.  Rather  let  them, 
with  a  manly  energy  and  industry,  and  in  firm  reliance 
upon  the  aid  of  the  Divine  Instructor,  move  on,  and  oc- 
cupy the  vacant  and  desolate  ground  of  theology.  Let 
them  so  become  MASTERS  of  whatever  relates  (remotely 
or  immediately)  to  religion,  that  they  may  avail  themselves 
of  the  ill  directed  learning  of  the  modern  foreign  scholars, 
and  feel  as  secure  from  the  mischief  it  contains,  as  we  do 
when  we  turn  to  the  admirable  literary  labours  of  the 
Benedictines,  or  the  Jesuits. 


100  SATURDAY   EVENING. 

We  must  learn,  by  the  aid  of  an  invigorated  and  well- 
informed  industry,  FITTING  THE  URGENCY  OF  THE 
TIMES,  to  combine  the  public  labours  of  Christian  Charity, 
with  arduous  studies  ;  and  especially  with  the  habit  of 
profound  meditation  upon  the  higher  matters  of  Divine 
Testimony. 


Till. 
THE  HIDDEN  WORLD. 

"  The  things  thaVare  Unseen  arc  Eternal." 


THE  main  prerogative  of  the  human  mind  is  its  power 
of  gathering  general  principles  from  a  multitude  of  diver- 
sified forms  or  appearances.  This  faculty,  to  a  greater  or 
less  extent,  developes  itself  in  all  men  ;  but  in  some  is  so 
vigorous  that  it  predominates,  and  gives  law  to  the  disposi- 
tions and  pursuits  :  in  such  instances  its  exercise  is  attend- 
ed with  a  pleasurable  emotion  of  the  most  vivid  sort.  The 
pre-eminence  of  the  faculty  of  generalization  constitutes 
what  is  termed  the  philosophic  character. 

The  delight  wherewith  minds  of  this  class  contemplate 
universal  truths,  or  abstract  laws,  does  not  so  much  spring 
from  perceiving  that  some  general  principle  holds  good  and 
re-appears  in  a  great  number  of  instances  that  very  nearly, 
or  perfectly  resemble,  one  the  other ;  as  from  discovering 
the  occult  presence  or  efficacy  of  some  such  principle  in  a 
multiplicity  of  cases  which  have  few  points,  or  perhaps,  no 
other  point  of  alliance  beside  this  one  of  their  obedience 
to  the  same  general  law. 

The  more  there  is  of  external  diversity,  or  unlikeness, 
or  of  apparent  contrariety  among  the  particular  instances 
that  are  thus  allied  by  their  subjection  to  a  common  rule, 
so  much  the  more  of  keen  satisfaction  or  delight  will  be 
afforded  to  the  mind  when  it  detects  the  hidden  principle 
of  union.  And  not  merely  does  diversity  of  form  enhance 
the  pleasure  of  generalization,  but  it  is  augmented,  also 

10* 


102  SATURDAY   EVENING. 

by  mere  remoteness  of  time  or  place.  Thus,  if  we  could 
glance  for  a  moment  at  the  surface  of  some  world  im- 
mensely distant  from  our  own,  and  there  recognize  the  op- 
eration of  the  same  principles  of  life  and  organization  with 
which  here  we  are  familiar,  this  perception  of  analogy 
would  generate  a  pleasurable  surprise,  made  the  more  in- 
tense by  the  recollection  of  the  vast  stretch,  or  wide  empire, 
of  such  common  laws. 

These  elements  of  intellectual  enjoyment  are  richly 
furnished  by  the  studies  of  the  naturalist.  Now,  it  may  be 
he  compares  family  with  family  of  the  vegetable  and 
animal  world  ;  and,  after  marking  the  ostensible  peculiari- 
ties of  each,  descends  beneath  the  surface  of  their  external 
differences,  and  lays  open  those  great  and  uniform  princi- 
ples of  mechanical  or  chemical  structure,  to  which  all  are 
conformed  ;  and  (if  the  figure  may  be  used)  he  listens, 
and  hears  all  beings  uttering,  in  their  several  dialects,  one 
and  the  same  code  of  physical  existence.  Or,  turning 
from  the  present  system  of  things,  the  lover  of  nature  ex- 
plores the  deep  strata  of  the  earth,  gathers  thence  the 
fossil  remains  of  long  extinct  tribes,  and,  with  more 
pleasure  than  the  vulgar  can  conceive  of,  or  he  express, 
brings  to  light  the  unvarying  laws  of  animal  organization, 
as  they  held  their  sway  ages  ago,  among  orders  the  most 
strangely  unlike  to  the  species  of  the  recent  world. — 
Whether  he  looks  to  the  extreme  distances  of  space,  or  of 
time,  the  naturalist,  after  giving  a  moment  to  the  obvious 
or  common  gratification  that  springs  from  novelty  and 
diversity,  seeks  and  soon  finds  the  more  lasting  and  sub- 
stantial pleasures  of  reason,  while  marking  the  oneness 
and  harmony  of  nature,  even  where  her  clothing  and  her 
colours,  and  her  proportions  have  the  least  of  uniformity. 

If  we  might  so  speak,  it  is  by  her  diversities,  her  gay 


THE  HIDDEN  WORLD.  103 

adornments,  her  copious  fund  of  forms,  her  sportive  freaks 
of  shape  and  colour,  that  Nature  allures  the  eye  of  man, 
while  she  draws  him  on  to  the  more  arduous,  but  more 
noble  pursuit  of  her  hidden  analogies.  Unlikeness 
awakens  his  attention  ;  uniformity,  or  simplicity,  fixes 
and  enchains  it ;  and,  by  the  pleasure  it  confers,  ensures, 
on  his  part,  the  laborious  investigation  of  abstruse  princi- 
ples. 

While  the  human  mind  is  thus  employed,  an  insensible 
process  goes  on,  the  effect  of  which  is  gradually  to  invest 
general  truths  with  a  sort  of  majesty,  as  well  as  beauty ; 
so  that,  at  length,  this  new  charm  rivals  and  prevails  over 
the  graces  and  attractions  of  exterior  diversity,  and  im- 
parts more  and  more  force  and  advantage  to  that  which 
is  occult,  until  it  quite  overpowers  that  which  is  visible. 

Thus  it  is,  that,  in  the  course  of  philosophical  pursuits, 
abstract  principles  come  forth  more  into  the  light — stand 
out  with  more  distinctness  before  the  mind,  and,  ere  long, 
the  laws  which  at  first  were  apprehended  with  some  degree 
of  painful  effort,  occupy  it  as  pleasant  and  facile  matters 
in  the  hour  of  relaxation,  as  well  as  engage  it  in  the  sea- 
son of  strenuous  exertion.  At  last,  whatever  is  universal 
prevails  altogether  over  whatever  is  individual,  and  the 
rational  faculty,  getting  released  from  the  disturbance  and 
fascination  of  things  external — accidental — trivial,  contem- 
plates with  open  eye  all  that  is  great  and  permanent. 

The  whole  evidence  of  our  modern  physical  science 
serves  to  establish  the  belief  (a  belief  in  itself  highly  rea- 
sonable) that  the  mechanical  and  chemical  laws  which 
prevail  in  our  planet,  are  common  to  other  planets,  and  to 
other  systems — even  the  most  remote  of  them  ;  so  that, 
in  this  sense,  the  inhabitant  of  any  one  world  would  find 
himself  at  home  in  any  other  :  just  as  the  traveller,  how 


104       .  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

much  soever  he  may  be,  for  a  moment,  perplexed  by  diver- 
sity of  climate,  or  strangeness  of  foreign  manners,  soon 
confesses  that  nature  and  man  are  essentially  the  same 
in  the  country  he  has  reached,  and  the  country  he  has  left. 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  it  cannot  well  be  doubted,  that 
the  same  principle  of  inexhaustible  variety  which,  as  we 
see,  in  our  world,  throws  out  so  many  thousand  forms  t>f 
beauty,  has  also  its  full  play  in  other  worlds,  and  takes  it3 
range  as  freely  in  one  district  of  the  universe  as  in  another. 
If  so,  it  follows  that,  could  we  visit  and  explore  other  re- 
gions, or  were  permitted  to  tread  the  fields  of  space,  and  to 
S2t  foot,  as  pilgrims,  upon  distant  spheres,  each  newly  dis- 
covered world  must  amaze  the  eye,  by  its  singular  fashion, 
or  peculiar  aspect,  or  particular  mould  of  beauty  :  each 
would  present  its  proper  and  distinguishing  style  of  sym- 
metry and  colour.  Nevertheless,  beneath  all  these  diver- 
sities, and  amid  the  confusion  of  these  special  graces,  there 
would  still  be  couched  (as  the  supposition  implies)  the  few 
great  canons  of  organic  combination  ;  so  that  each  planet 
of  all  the  skies  would  at  once  challenge  to  itself  an  indivi- 
duality, and  confess  its  relationship,  or  bond  of  alliance, 
with  all  the  rest. — 

— And  who  shall  duly  conceive  of  that  emotion  of  won- 
der and  pleasure,  with  which  the  forms  and  contrivances 
of  so  many  dissimilar  worlds  mu=t  present  to  a  rational 
mind  what  may  well  be  called  the  majesty  or  awful  force 
and  sanction  of  those  few  canons  to  which  we  find  sub- 
mission is  made  in  all  regions  of  the  material  system  ?  In 
returning  to  our  abode  from  an  excursion  such  as  we  have 
imagined,  the  familiar  objects  that  adorn  it,  ceasing  to  at- 
tract the  eye  by  their  individuality,  would  henceforward 
stand  before  us  as  the  mere  symbols  of  the  abstract  trutlis 
that  had  now  gained  possession  of  the  mind. 


THE  HIDDEN  WORLD.  105 

We  may  safely  employ  the  analogy  which  we  have  thus 
drawn  from  the  material  world,  and  transfer  it,  with  its 
inferences,  .to  the  intellectual  and  spiritual  system.  And 
\ve  institute  our  parallel  as  follows  : — it  is  not  to  be  ques- 
tioned that  the  laws  of  the  Divine  Government  (not  less 
than  the  first  principles  of  the  material  world)  are  one  and 
the  same  in  all  places  of  the  universe ;  for  these  laws  are 
nothing  else  than  expressions  of  the  Eternal  Excellence 
— its  goodness,  and  wisdom,  and  purity.  As  in  the  Su- 
preme Being  there  is  no  variableness,  so  neither  can  there 
be  contrariety  or  opposition  of  purposes  within  the  circle  of 
his  administration.  Nevertheless,  though  the  laws  and 
ultimate  issue  of  the  moral  system  must  be  one  and  un- 
changing, and  must  challenge  application  to  all  possible 
causes,  yet  is  it  reasonable  to  believe  that  the  modes  under 
which  this  one  purpose  or  rule  of  the  divine  goverment 
reaches  its  accomplishment  are  as  various  as  the  worlds 
wherein  it  is  taking  its  course  are  many.  In  other  words, 
we  are  compelled  to  suppose,  on  the  one  hand,  thatthe  in- 
telligent universe  presents  an  absolute  unity  of  principle; 
and  on  the  other,  that  it  offers  infinite  dissimilarities  of 
means  and  events. — If  each  sphere  or  planet  has  its  own 
physical  character — its  peculiar  fashion  and  form ;  so, 
doubtless,  has  each  family  of  intelligent  beings  its  special 
destiny — its  single  and  peculiar  history,  and  its  individual 
round  of  fortunes.  The  ways  of  Him  who  sits  on  the 
throne  of  universal  domination  are  "  a  great  deep,"  and  of 
his  judgments  or  dispensations  "there  is  no  end." 

Now  in  the  very  same  way  that  extensive  generalization 
in  matters  of  physical  science  imparts  gradually  to  univer- 
sal laws  a  predominance  in  the  mind  over  visible  appear- 
ances and  single  instances  ;  so,  by  an  analogy  of  principle, 
would  an  extensive  knowledge  of  the  intellectual  and 


106  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

moral  system,  as  it  now  exists,  or  has  heretofore  developed 
itself,  in  other  worlds,  produce  a  similar  prevalence  of  ab- 
stract truths  over  the  impression  of  particular  facts.  If  a 
moral  instead  of  a  physical  process  of  generalization  could 
be  pursued  by  the  human  mind  in  its  passage  from  system 
to  system  ;  and  if  it  could  listen  to  the  history,  witness  the 
condition,  and  learn  the  destiny,  of  thousands  and  thou- 
sands again  of  immortal  tribes,  whatever  was  uniform  or 
fixed  in  the  maxims  of  the  divine  government,  and  which 
presented  itself  ever  and  anew  in  every  world,  at  length, 
assume  to  itself  a  paramount  importance,  and  fill  the 
faculty  of  rational  contemplation  almost  to  the  exclusion  of 
lesser  objects. 

Let  it  be  granted  that,  for  a  while — perhaps  long — the 
spirit  of  the  traveller  through  the  universe  would  be  over- 
powered by  its  emotions  of  amazement  and  curiosity,  in 
contemplating  so  many  diversities  of  social  constitution — 
so  much  strange  magnificence,  so  many  new  forms  of 
greatness  or  splendour  ; — the  energies — revolutions — ad- 
ventures of  innumerable  families.  This  must  be  :  but  it 
is  certain  that  a  mind  constituted  like  that  of  man,  would, 
at  length  (if  we  may  so  speak)  collapse,  or  fall  in  upon  its 
centre  ;  it  must  return,  and  take  up  its  proper  nature — its 
innate  usage  of  generalization  ; — it  must  court  the  calm- 
ness of  reason,  as  a  relief  from  the  turmoil,  and  perplexity, 
and  fatigue  of  looking  so  much  abroad.  Then  would 
commence  that  process  of  the  understanding,  which 
digests  and  simplifies  multifarious  objects,  and  by  which 
the  burden  and  distress  of  too  much  variety  is  relieved. 
Or  perhaps,  suddenly,  in  the  full  course  of  eager  contem- 
plation, the  spirit  would  be  arrested  by  the  thought  of  the 
universal  law,  which  (amid  these  changing  scenes) 
was  displaying  its  unchanging  force ;  and,  as  with  an  in- 


THE  HIDDEN  WORLD.  107 

slantaneous  revulsion,  it  would  at  once  pass  over  from 
things  individual  and  visible,  to  things  invisible  and  per- 
manent. 

In  like  manner,  as  from  physical  generalization,  the 
beautiful  (might  we  say,  awful)  simplicity  of  the  material 
world  fills  the  mind  with  a  calm  and  elevated  pleasure  ; 
so,  and  with  much  more  power,  would  a  similar  process 
carried  on  while  the  moral  world  at  large  was  passing  un- 
der the  eye,  bring  in  upon  the  heart  those  universal  prin- 
ciples of  the  divine  government  which  are  the  expression 
of  the  Divine  Nature.  These  principles  would  gradually 
come  forth  from  amid  the  innumerable  instances  of  their 
efficiency  ;  they  would  slowly  and  silently  present  them- 
selves in  a  clearer  and  still  clearer  light ;  they  would  more 
and  more  be  disengaged  from  anomalies  or  exceptions. 
The  unchanging  and  unsullied  glories  of  absolute  purity, 
wisdom,  and  benevolence,  would,  with  an  accelerating 
augmentation,  prevail  over  the  glare  and  show  of  individual 
objects.  Whatever  is  limited,  partial,  temporary,  contin- 
gent, accidental,  must  fade  and  become  dim,  or  take  its 
proper  place  of  comparative  insignificance.  Meanwhile 
though  the  SUPREME,  who  dwelleth  in  light  inaccessible, 
were  not  visibly  revealed,  nevertheless  his  actual  presence, 
as  Ruler  of  all  beings,  would  be  declared  in  the  brightness 
of  his  attributes  ;  so  that  the  issue  of  so  large  a  knowledge 
of  the  moral  and  intellectual  system  must  cause,  to  the 
rational  spirit — a  vanishing  of  the  creation,  with  its  diver- 
sities, and  a  manifestation  of  the  Creator  in  his  unchangea- 
ble perfections.  Or  otherwise  to  express  the  same  thing, 
that  which  is  "  seen  and  temporal"  would  be  lost  in  that 
which  is  "  unseen  and  eternal," 


THE  STATE  OF  SECi 

"  The  things  that  are  seen  arc  Temporal." 


A  GLIMPSE  of  the  immensity  of  the  material  system  is 
granted  to  the  eye  of  man  ;  and  the  industry  of  science  at 
once  rcrtiiies  and  greatly  extends  our  knowledge  of  the 
vastness  of  the  creation.  But  it  is  not  so  with  the  moral 
system,  of  which  absolutely  nothing  is  seen  beyond  the 
homestead  of  the  human  family.  And  even  of  that  small 
circle  so  small  a  segment  comes  under  the  eye  of  any 
individual,  and  there  is  in  what  is  seen  (itself  a  little  por- 
tion) so  much  apparent  anomaly,  so  much  confusion,  dis- 
order, and  variation,  that  GENERAL  I-RIM  IFLKS  are  almost 
entirely  hidden,  or  lost  among  ambiguous  instances,  and 
exceptions. 

This  is  so  much  (he  fact,  that  it  is  not  without  painful 
and  dubious  eilbrts  of  abstruse  reasoning,  that  the  invaria- 
ble laws  of  the  moral  world,  or  what  may  be  called  the 
axioms  of  virtue,  are  to  be  gathered,  in  the  way  of  induc- 
tion, from  the  course  of  human  affairs.  Thus  it  is  that 
divine  philosophy,  though  her  cause  is  good,  and  her 
argument  valid,  is  driven  to  plead  anxiously  for  her  rights 
iu  the  world,  against  the  obstreperous  voice  of  passion  and 
interest.  Virtue,  though  reason  be  at  her  side,  speaks  in 
the  tone  of  the  feeble  and  oppressed,  when  surrounded  by 
the  powerful  and  the  unjust.  It  is  true,  that  a  testimony 
from  heaven  has  come  to  sustain  the  cause  of  virtue ;  and 
yet,  even  this  testimony,  this  voice  from  God  himself,  is 


THE  STATE  OP  SECLUSION.  109 

uttered  among  men,  not  in  peals  of  thunder,  which  all 
must  hearken  to,  but  as  a  whisper  in  the  ears  of  those 
who  will  listen.  So  it  is  that  those  canons,  or  first  princi- 
ples of  the  moral  system,  by  which  eventually  the  destinies 
of  all  worlds  are  to  be  determined,  here  float  about,  as 
matters  of  speculation  and  controversy,  which  now  for  a 
moment  triumph  and  prevail ;  and  now  again  are  over- 
borne and  discarded. 

Were  it  otherwise,  that  is  to  say,  were  the  entire  moral 
system,  or  a  considerable  portion  of  it,  always  exposed  to 
our  inspection,  so  that  universal  principles  should  constant- 
ly have  that  advantage  over  partial  instances,  which  natur- 
ally belongs  to  them,  in  that  case  the  dullest  mind  must 
admit  the  inference  which  would  thence  accrue  in  favour 
of  wisdom.  The  heaviest  ear  would  then  be  awakened 
by  those  sounds,  as  of  thunder,  which  would  assert  the 
unalterable  obligations  of  virtue.  A  penetrating  conviction 
of  the  folly  and  damage  of  vice  must  possess  itself  of  every 
spirit.  Our  difficult  methods  of  reasoning  on  question*  of 
right  and  wrong  would  be  rejected  and  forgotten  ;  the  dim 
knowledge  of  duty  which  now  guides  us,  must  fade  ;  the 
faultering  motives  of  our  unstable  virtue  must  be  super- 
seded ;  the  slumber  of  the  soul,  with  all  the  dreams  and 
fantasies  of  that  slumber,  must  be  broken,  and  henceforth 
an  incalculable  enhancement  of  the  emotions  of  the  moral 
life  (whether  for  the  better  or  the  worse)  must  take  place. 

A  purpose  wholly  incompatible  with  any  such  enhance- 
ment or  intensity  of  those  emotions,  is  manifestly  to  be 
accomplished  in  the  present  state ;  and  this  plainly  is  the 
reason  why  no  acquaintance  with  the  great  world  of  intel- 
ligent and  accountable  beings  can  be  accorded  to  man,  so 
long  as  that  purpose  remains  in  suspense.  The  constant 
rule  of  the  existing  system,  the  common  character  of  all 
11 


110  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

its  arrangements  is  this — That  an  equipoise  of  motives,  a 
doubtful  conflict  between  antagonist  principles  shall  be 
maintained.  None  of  the  elements  of  the  moral  life  shall 
become  so  far  paramount,  as  absolutely  to  exclude  their 
opposites.  Dispositions  are  to  be  formed,  tried,  and  fixed, 
under  circumstances  which  shall  allow  no  overwhelming 
force  to  any  one  class  of  inducements ;  and  which  shall 
throw  much  obscurity  over  abstract  rules,  when  applied  to 
specific  occasions.  In  a  word,  a  course  of  probation  is  to 
take  place,  of  which  it  is  a  necessary  condition  that  Evil 
shall  often  present  itself  under  a  semblance  of  Good  ;  and 
Good,  as  often,  be  shrouded  under  a  disguise  of  Evil ;  so 
that  an  ill  choice  may  become  possible  to  a  rational  agent, 
and  a  right  choice  be  rendered  difficult.  It  is  evident  that 
the  specific  intention  of  the  system  under  which  we  are 
acting  would  be  defeated,  or  surrendered,  if  Generalization 
in  matters  of  morality,  could  advance  so  far  as  to  prevail 
over  the  immediate  impression  of  particular  inducements  ; 
or,  in  other  words,  if  universal  principles — eternal  truth, 
stood  always  in  the  mental  perception  more  prominent 
than  the  reasons  of  each  single  occasion. 

Even  if  we  were  ignorant  of  the  actual  construction  of 
the  material  world,  we  might  anticipate  that — a  moral 
system  such  as  our  being  supposed — the  scene  or  theatre 
of  exercise  must  be  a  PLACE  OF  SECLUSION  ; — a  narrow 
and  limited  area,  shut  out  from  the  great  world  and  gen- 
eral assembly  of  intelligent  beings.  The  probationers, 
must  not  see  or  know  that,  the  knowledge  of  which  would 
at  once  dissipate  the  obscurity  that  invests  questions  of 
right  and  wrong.  They  may  indeed  receive  a  rule  of 
conduct,  and  they  may  be  coldly  informed  of  the  distant 
consequences  of  their  present  course  of  action  ;  but  this 
information  must  itself  take  its  place  quietly  among  those 
reasons  that  are  much  more  valid  than  imperative.  Fur- 


THE  STATE  OP  SECLUSION.  Ill 

thermose,  all  free  communication  must  be  interdicted  be- 
tween the  piobationers  and  those  other  orders  of  accountable 
beings  who,  from  a  larger  or  longer  experience,  and  from, 
a  more  extended  knowledge  of  the  divine  government, 
might  be  inclined  to  use  vehement  dissuasions,  or  might 
even  attempt  to  compel  submission  to  the  unalterable  laws 
of  that  government. — 

— Brief  intimations  may  reach  the  probationers  ;  hints, 
and  warnings,  and  encouragements  may  be  afforded  to 
them  ;  but  no  open  correspondence  must  be  allowed  to  be 
held  with  the  upper  world  :  for  such  correspondence  would 
at  once  nullify  the  conditions  of  the  probationary  system. 

And  are  not  such,  in  fact  the  circumstances  of  that  abode 
to  which  the  human  family  is  confined  1  The  place  of 
our  trial  is  as  effectively  a  prison,  as  if  our  sky  were  a 
hemisphere  of  brass.  We  may  indeed  look  out  freely  on 
every  side  upon  the  populous  regions  of  illimitable  space ; 
but  with  the  inhabitants  of  those  regions  we  can  hold  no 
parley.  Or  if  we  look  within  the  walls,  it  is  still,  and  it 
is  always  true,  that  "  the  things  eternal,"  that  is  to  say, 
the  permanent  and  universal  principles  of  the  moral 
system — the  constant  tendencies  and  ultimate  issues  of 
good  and  evil,  are  hidden  and  unseen  ;  while  those  things 
that  are  for  a  season — "  the  things  temporal,"  do,  by  their 
irregularities,  their  complexity,  their  very  insignificance,  as 
well  as  their  obtrusive  glare,  serve  more  to  conceal  than  to 
display — more  to  confound  than  to  illustrate,  the  great 
axioms  of  eternal  virtue.  The  attractions,  the  dangers, 
the  urgent  interests  of  the  present  state,  form  (may  we 
say)  a  screen  which,  with  its  gaudy  and  various  colours, 
its  painted  pomps  and  trickeries,  hangs  on  every  side  before 
the  eye  of  man,  encircling  his  theatre  of  exercise,  and  fenc- 
ing out  from  his  knowledge  the  great  world  of  intellectual 
life. 


112  SATURDAY   EVENING. 

That  the  rule  of  seclusion  is  the  law  of  the  divine 
government  might  be  inferred,  with  som«  degree  of 
certainty,  from  what  we  behold  of  the  ac^al  construction 
of  the  material  universe.  Why  is  it  <nat  the  solid  frame- 
work of  nature  (the  purpose  and  intention  of  which  can  be 
nothing  else  than  to  sustain  conscious  beings)  instead  of 
presenting  a  continuous  surface,  that  might  be  traversed 
from  side  to  side,  is  actually  broken  up  into  innumerable 
globes :  and  these  globes  suspended  in  the  same  space  at 
incalculable  distances  one  from  another  ?  Why  is  it  that, 
to  obtain  standing-room  for  his  intelligent  family,  the  Crea- 
tor has  taken  a  latitude,  a  height,  a  depth,  which  to  created 
minds  is  equivalent  to  absolute  infinitude  1  Why,  unless 
it  be  to  give  effect  to  this  necessary  law  of  seclusion  and 
separation  ?  We  say  that  there  is  seen,  legibly  inscribed 
upon  the  breadth-of  the  midnight  skies,  a  truth  succinctly 
expressed  in  the  words, — "  The  things  eternal  (universal) 
are  unseen."  And  that  special  arrangement  of  the  mate- 
rial system  is  peculiarly  worthy  of  notice,  which,  while  all 
intercourse  between  neighbouring  worlds  is  effectively  pre- 
vented, allows  the  vastness  of  the  creation  to  be  a  spectacle 
to  each  portion  of  it.  In  truth,  nothing  in  physical 
philosophy  is  so  amazing  as  the  means  by  which  objects, 
much  more  remote  one  from  the  other  than  the  utmost 
range  of  calculation  can  extend  to,  are  made  perceptible 
one  to  the  other.  If  the  mere  greatness  of  creation  is 
wonderful,  there  is  even  a  higher,  or  more  superlative 
wonder,  in  the  fact  that  this  greatness  should  be  cogniza- 
ble from  every  point ;  or  that,  at  any  point  where  a  per- 
cipient being  may  have  his  station,  thither,  as  to  a  centre, 
the  lines  of  knowledge  should  converge,  so  that  the  mind 
of  that  being  should  gather  to  itself  true  and  distinct  notices 
of  whatever  floats  within  the  immeasurable  sphere  of  stel- 
lar light ! 


THE  STATE  OF  SECLUSION.  113 

And  if  so  amazing  an  apparatus  has  been  had  recourse 
to  for  the  purpose  of  conveying  to  us  a  knowledge  of  the 
greatness  of  the  creation — if  God,  after  extending  his  pro- 
ductive power  incalculably,  has  superadded  to  the  whole  a 
lustre  which  exhibits  all  to  all;  so  likewise  he  has  enabled 
us,  by  fair  methods  of  inference  and  analogy,  to  attain  the 
belief  that  all  worlds  are  (like  our  own)  the  homes  of  life 
and  intelligence  :  and  we  are  ,then,  by  the  same  rules  of 
analogy,  led  to  suppose  that  the  occupants  of  each  of  these 
widely  separated  spheres  are,  like  ourselves,  confined  to 
their  several  birth-places — are,  like  ourselves,  interdicted 
corVespondence  with  the  universal  realm,  and  denied  (as 
we)  the  benefit. — if  indeed,  it  were  a  benefit,  that  might 
accrue  from  a  more  extensive  experience  than  that  which 
belongs  to  their  home  history. 

This  same  law  of  seclusion  which  we  see  legibly  written 
upon  the  material  universe,  is  also  carried  out  through  all 
the  arrangements  of  our  own  world,  and  in  many  modes 
takes  effect,  until  each  individual  of  mankind  is  straitened 
in  his  sphere,  and  shut  up  within  a  circle  exceedingly 
small ;  so  that  if  his  particular  experience  be  compared 
with  the  entire  experience,  not  indeed  of  the  universe,  but 
only  of  the  human  race  or  even  of  one  generation  of  the 
race,  the  disproportion  is  incalculable ;  and  so  it  is  certainly 
true  to  him,  that  "  the  things  eternal  (universal)  are  un- 
seen ;"  while  the  things  which  he  actually  beholds  are  those 
only  that  are  partial,  and  "  for  a  season." 

To  effectuate  the  purposes  of  the  moral  system,  and  to 
secure  the  necessary  conditions  of  the  exercise  of  principles, 
it  is  not  enough  that  man  should  be  confined  to  one 
world  ; — he  must,  within  that  world,  be  again  and  yet 
again  secluded  :  and  this  is  done  by  various  means  ;  as 
first — The  entire  human  family  is  parcelled  out  through 

11* 


114  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

time,  by  the  succession  of  generations :  and  as  the  terra 
of  life  barely  measures  two  of  the  periods  wherein  the  race 
is  renovated,  each  generation  knows  only  its  immediate 
predecessors ;  and,  except  so  far  as  tradition  and  history 
convey  to  it  (like  fragments  from  a  wreck)  some  loose 
particulars  of  the  knowledge  of  the  more  ancient  races  of 
men,  each  generation,  each  successive  rank,  comes  forward 
as  a  novice  upon  the  stage  of  life,  knowing  absolutely 
nothing  of  all  that  is  to  follow  it,  and  almost  nothing  of 
what  preceded  it.  The  rolling  and  swelling  flood  of  hu- 
man life  moves  on  in  billows  so  brief  and  proud,  that,  in 
rising  to  the  brow  of  each  watery  ridge,  nothing  of  the 
general  expanse  is  beheld ; — nothing  seen,  but  the  surge 
and  fall  of  the  precursive  wave. 

Those  peculiar  physical  sentiments  that  distinguish  the 
several  stages  of  life,  or  that  naturally  spring  from  the 
circumstances  attending  each  stage  greatly  intercept  the 
transmission,  or  natural  descent  of  experience,  from  one 
generation  to  another.  The  pride  and  heat  of  youthful 
hope  render  the  youth,  conscious  as  he  is  of  vigour,  impa- 
tient of  paternal  admonition  ;  and  then  the  pride  and 
shame  of  the  father,  whose  experience  is  in  fact  the  history 
of  his  owrt  follies,  or  crimes,  again  forbid,  on  his  part,  a 
true  and  candid  delivery  of  the  wisdom  he  has  so  hardly 
gained.  That  knowledge  of  life  which  the  son  receives 
from  his  father,  is  indeed  valuable  ;  but  it  is  scarcely  more 
than  a  grain  or  two  in  quantity. 

Again,  the  human  race  of  each  generation  is  divided, 
and  effectively  sequestered  by — remoteness  of  geographical 
position  ;  by  antipathy  of  races  ;  by  discordancy  of  tastes} 
and  modes  of  life ;  and,  most  of  all,  by  diversity  of  speech. 
Spsech,  the  prerogative  and  glory  of  man,  the  instrument 
both  of  knowledge  and  virtue,  and  the  principal  organ  of 


THE   STATE  OP  SECLUSION.  115 

advancement  in  eveiy  line,  has  become  jarred  by  so  many 
discords,  that,  though  it  subserves  its  purposes  within  par- 
ticular circles,  it  utterly  refuses  to  favour  universal  inter- 
course ;  and  on  the  contrary,  enhances  and  perpetuates  all 
those  other  alienations  that  spring  from  remoteness  of  place, 
or  dissimilarity  of  habits.  It  is  by  language  (the  very 
means  of  communion)  that  mankind  is  severed  and  es- 
tranged, and  almost  as  much  repelled,  one  from  another, 
as  if  they  were  of  different  species,  or  had  come  together 
from  different  worlds.  Who  would  have  thought  that 
men — the  offspring  of  one  womb,  and  parted  perhaps  only 
by  a  river  or  chain  of  mountains,  should  ever  be  reduced 
to  the  meagerness  of  mute  signs  and  gestures  ! 

But  the  law  of  seclusion  does  not  here  cease  to  operate. 
— By  the  perils,  necessities,  and  straits  of  ordinary  life,  by 
the  pressure  of  every  day's  burden,  by  the  opposition  of 
private  interests,  and  the  contracted  motives  of  selfishness, 
every  man  (more  or  less)  has  his  attention  so  concentrated 
upon  the  small  surface  of  his  particular  advantages,  his  hopes 
and  his  fears,  that  he  is  very  far  from  being  a  free  spectator 
of  that  circle  or  theatre  of  life  which  actually  comes  with- 
in his  range  of  observation.  As  his  purposes  are  partial, 
so  are  his  habits  of  contemplation  : — he  walks  in  one  path, 
and  gathers  all  the  wisdom  that  he  does  at  all  gather,  on 
the  narrow  line  of  that  one  path.  Not  one  man  in  ten 
thousand  is  as  wise  as  the  facts  he  knows,  or  might  know, 
would  make  him.  Then  moreover  it  is  implied  in  the 
very  supposition  of  a  system  wherein  many  independent 
impulses  are  incessantly  traversing  each  other,  that  each 
single  train  of  events  shall  present  as  much  of  intricacy,  of 
confusion,  and  of  apparent  anomaly,  as  of  order,  or  abstract 
principle : — every  man,  in  his  private  sphere,  has  to  do,  not 
with  the  average  result  of  general  rules  ;  but  with  the 


116  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

special  chances  of  single  throws  :  the  incidents  and  occa- 
sions that  come  athawrt  him,  for  the  trial  of  his  motives, 
are  fortuitous  combinations,  more  than  instances  that  might 
exemplify  any  given  rule.  Every  man  meets  with  at 
least  as  many  exceptions,  or  seeming  exceptions,  as  cases 
in  point.  Much  ambiguity  attaches  to  the  course  of  affairs, 
and  ordinarily,  that  which  is  most  obtrusive,  or  most  im- 
portunate, and  clamorous,  in  urging  its  pretensions,  is  pre- 
cisely what  ought  to  be  disregarded,  and  put  out  of  the 
question  of  right  and  wrong.  Comparatively  few  of  the 
matters  that  come  under  the  hand  of  man,  range  them- 
selves clearly  beneath  general  principles.  Scarcely  does 
he  catch  a  glimpse,  amid  every  day's  hurry  and  care,  of 
the  working  of  abstract  moral  laws ;  but  rather  is  tempt- 
ed, every  hour,  to  believe  that  exceptions,  if  not  more  fre- 
quent, are  at  least  more  valid  than  general  rules. 

The  faculty  of  generalization  is  indeed  given  to  man ; 
and  he  has  also  the  propensity  to  employ  it ;  and  there  are 
individuals  who,  in  the  exercise  of  this  power,  gain 
acquaintance  with  whatever  is  true  and  permanent :  but 
in  looking  to  the  mass  of  mankind,  moral  generalization 
does  scarcely  more  than  bud,  or  give  some  inert  indications 
of  its  existence,  just  as  the  chrysalis  does,  of  the  posses- 
sion of  the  instincts  of  its  future  activity.  Every  circum- 
stance of  vulgar  life  opposes  the  disposition  of  the  soul  to 
spring  upward,  or  stretch  the  wing  of  meditation  towards 
a  higher  sphere: — the  smallness  of  common  affairs,  as 
well  as  their  urgency;  their  uniformity,  or  sameness  of  re- 
currence ;  and  their  multiplicity ; — the  contaminations  of 
life,  and  its  ridicule  also  ;  the  absurdity  and  the  folly  that 
infest  all  parts  of  human  conduct,  as  well  as  the  abjectness 
of  the  miseries  that  afflict  mankind,  are  all  so  many  cau- 
ses of  depression,  or  of  limitation,  that  confine  man  to  a 


THE   STATE  OF  SECLUSION.  117 

spot  on  the  surface  of  earth,  and  hedge  about  his  prospect. 

It  is  true  that,  in  every  age,  the  more  intelligent  and 
sagacious  portion  of  mankind  has,  amid  the  confusion  and 
ambiguity  of  the  moral  system,  rightly  inferred  universal 
principles :  and,  with  more  or  less  admixture  of  error,  has 
reached  or  denned  the  unalterable  canons  of  virtue.  But 
(revelation  apart)  the  process  through  which  this  wisdom 
was  gained  has  been  too  abstruse,  or  difficult,  to  recom- 
mend itself  to  vulgar  minds  ;  and  such,  conversant  always 
with  instances  that  seem  to  contradict  the  rule,  have  been 
prone  to  believe  that,  to  pay  homage  to  ABSTRACT  TRUTH, 
is  to  worship  a  powerless  or  sleeping  divinity. 

It  may  perplex  us  to  contemplate  the  condition  of  man, 
as  thus  conversant  as  much  with  the  anomalies  as  with 
the  rules  of  the  moral  system  :  nevertheless  the  fact  of  his 
being  so,  whatever  purpose  it  may  be  destined  to  fulfil,  is 
manifestly  only  a  part  of  the  universal  constitution  under 
the  conditions  of  which,  as  it  seems,  the  innumerable  fami- 
lies of  the  creation,  as  well  as  ourselves,  are  placed : — if 
men,  individually,  are  confined  to  a  narrow  line  of  things, 
and  if  nations  are  debarred  much  intercourse,  one  with 
another,  and  if  generations  come  and  pass  away  with  lit- 
tle knowledge  of  their  precursors,  and  transmitting  little 
of  themselves  to  their  successors,  all  this  separation  and 
seclusion  is  only  the  ramification  of  that  great  principle, 
which,  as  we  see,  has  broken  up  the  solid  material  of 
the  universe  into  innumerable  globules,  and  has  swung 
each  little  sphere  in  the  centre  of  an  impassable  solitude 
of  space. 

But  how  much  soever  of  ambiguity  or  confusion  may 
attend  universal  moral  principles,  so  far  as  they  are  to  be 
gathered  by  each  individual  from  his  particular  experience, 
neither  those  principles,  nor  the  method  of  establishing 


118  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

them,  are  really  invalid,  or  vague. — The  true  description 
of  them  is,  that  they  are  at  once  demonstrable,  or  certain  ; 
but  not  obtrusive.  This  is  the  uniform  character  of 
every  kind  of  practical  or  theoretic  wisdom  in  the  present 
state ; — it  is  valid  and  ascertainable  ;  but  not  loud  or  im- 
portunate in  its  mode  of  challenging  attention.  Whoever 
will,  may  acquaint  himself  with  truth  and  virtue :  but 
neither  truth  nor  virtue  stands  on  the  highway,  or  forces 
herself  upon  the  notice  of  passengers.  All  this  is  only 
in  harmony  wilh  the  apparent  intention  of  the  visible 
world,  considered  as  a  frame  work  for  the  support  of  a 
moral  sytem.  The  very  same  law  which  divides  the  fami- 
ly of  God  into  so  many  separate  communities,  imposes 
(within  the  circle  of  each  community)  a  reserve,  a  silence, 
upon  wisdom  and  virtue. 

Wisdom  and  virtue  calmly  utter  their  maxims :  but 
compel  no  attention  no  obedience  :  they  are  not  trumpet- 
tongued  ;  neither  do  they  adduce,  as  they  might,  in  sup- 
port of  their  doctrine,  the  evidence  of  that  great  book  of 
facts  wherein  is  written  the  complete  history  of  man. 
Let  it  only  be  imagined  that,  in  every  controversy  between 
the  inducements  of  evil,  and  the  reasons  of  virtue,  there 
were  exhibited  to  the  wavering  spirit  all  the  cases  in  point, 
and  all  the  issues  of  those  cases,  that  stand  upon  the  faith- 
ful records  of  the  human  family  of  all  ages.  What  im- 
petuosity of  passion,  what  audacity,  could  resist  the  infer- 
ence in  favour  of  virtue  ;  or  rush  upon  its  guilty  pleasures 
through  the  crowd  of  a  million  of  victims  ?  No  such 
force  is  granted,  in  the  present  state,  to  the  reasons  of  vir- 
tue ;  and,  turn  which  way  we  will,  it  is  always  true, 
that  "  The  things  eternal  are  unseen — the  things  that 
ore  seen  are  temporal." 


X. 

THE  LIMITS  OP  REVELATION. 

"  And  we  prophesy  in  pari.'1 


Does  then  Christianity  fall  in  with  the  law  of  reserve 
and  seclusion  which,  as  we  see,  is  inscribed  upon  the  front 
of  the  heavens,  and  which  we  find  to  belong  to  all  the  ar- 
rangements of  the  present  state ;  or  does  it  stand  in  con- 
trariety to  this  great  rule  :  is  it  in  harmony,  or  out  of  har- 
mony with  the  actual  constitution  of  the  moral  world  ? 
Does  it  come  to  us  (as  the  maxims  of  virtue  come)  unob- 
trusively, yet  validly  ?  Like  them,  does  it  speak  to  those 
who  will  listen,  and  convince  those  who  give  it  attention  ; 
or  does  it  peal  as  thunder  over  the  heads  of  men,  and  com- 
pel all  to  confess  its  authority  ? 

The  question  is  answered  at  once  by  looking  to  the  ac- 
tual position  of  Christianity  in  the  world :  it  convinces 
and  satisfies  all  who  give  heed  to  its  evidence  :  but  it  leaves 
at  their  full  liberty  all  contemners.  Nothing  is  more  facile 
than  to  remain  in  ignorance  of  God's  revelation,  and 
under  that  ignorance  to  scorn  it.  This  is  as  easy  as  to 
quench  the  light  of  natural  virtue  by  a  course  of  profliga- 
cy ;  and  to  acquire  contempt  of  all  goodness,  by  familiari- 
ty with  vice. 

And  if  Christianity,  like  natural  morality,  may  readily 
be  set  at  nought,  so  also  does  it.  maintain  its  consistency 
with  the  apparent  intention  of  the  construction  of  the 
material  universe,  by  the  parsimony  of  its  revelations  ; — 
by  abstaining  from*  the  conveyance  of  any  particle  of 


120  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

knowledge  which  is  not  strictly  connected  with  the  inte- 
rests and  motives  of  human  virtue.  Had  it  been  the 
contrivance  of  man,  it  would  assuredly  have  overstepped 
this  modesty,  and  have  challenged  the  wonder  of  mankind 
by  many  amazing  discoveries  of  things  unseen.  Or  had 
it  been  an  accidental  lifting  of  the  veil  of  the  hidden  world 
by  the  wantonness  of  some  supernal  hand,  it  would  have 
indulged  human  curiosity  with  flashes  or  glimpses  of  things 
beyond  our  sphere.  But  Christianity  is  a  well-digested 
and  premeditated  ACT  of  the  Divine  government;  and 
therefore  maintains  strictly  the  seciecy  that  sits  awful  mis- 
tress of  creation,  nor  utters  a  syllable  of  loose  or  gratui- 
tous knowledge. 

The  veil  of  the  Temple  of  the  universal  kingdom  is 
not  rent — is  not  raised,  by  the  coming  of  the  Gospel.  A 
voice  from  behind  that  veil  delivers  to  men  the  brief  sen- 
tences of  the  Divine  will ;  but  neither  does  the  speaker  in- 
vite interlocution,  nor  are  the  things  spoken  of  exhibi- 
ted : — the  messenger  from  heaven  does  not  abide  with  us ; 
does  not  spend  his  leisure  in  our  company  ;  is  not  to  be 
surprised  by  questions  of  curiosity  in  moments  of  compla- 
cency :  he  has  imparted  that  which  was  to  be  given — and 
is  gone ! 

We  may,  if  we  please,  quarrel  with  this  rigour  in  the 
communication  of  knowledge.  How  easy  would  it  have 
been,  and  how  confirmatory  too  of  virtue,  to  have  given 
us  the  history  of  other  races,  and  to  have  shown,  in  the 
story  of  their  destiny,  the  force  and  sanction  of  the  unal- 
terable rules  of  goodness  !  Yes ;  but  first,  let  us  reprobate 
that  mechanism  of  the  universe  which  has  converted  the 
abodes  of  intelligent  beings  into  prisons,  and  encircled  each 
family,  as  with  a  rampart  of  iron  and  of  brass.  In  the 
pride  of  speculation  we  repudiate  Christianity,  because, 


THE  LIMITS  OP  REVELATION-  121 

while  professing  to  come  from  the  Creator  of  all  worlds,  it 
brings  us  not  at  all  into  converse  or  contact  with  any  world 
but  our  own  :  the  Gospel  is  as  contractedly  mundane,  as 
if  its  Author  had  been  ignorant  of  any  other  sphere  than 
this.  Christianity  allies  itself  not  at  all  with  the  disco- 
veries, and  breathes  not  the  spirit  of  ASTRONOMY. — No. 
But  does  not  the  first  and  chief  inference  we  derive  from 
the  discoveries  of  this  same  astronomy  impel  us  to  believe 
that  God  is  now  actually  dealing  with  the  various  tribes 
of  his  intelligent,  family  (as  well  as  with  ourselves)  apart 
one  from  the  other?  This  very  secrecy  which  so  much 
offends  us  in  the  Scriptures,  do  we  not  read  it  in  the 
skies  ? 

Whether  we  speak  of  the  Evidence  of  the  divine  ori- 
ginal of  the  Scriptures ;  or  of  the  moral  principles  they 
contain,  the  same  rule  holds  good,  which  we  have  noticed 
to  prevail  in  reference  to  the  maxims  of  natural  virtue. 
Those  maxims  may  be  ascertained  and  established  on  the 
most  satisfactory  grounds  :  but  they  never  obtrude  them- 
selves upon  our  attention  ;  and  it  is  always  practicable  to 
pass  them  by,  and  go  on  in  contempt  of  their  voice.  If  it 
were  otherwise ;  that  is  to  say,  if  the  principles  of  integri- 
ty, of  honour,  of  temperance,  of  benevolence,  were  loud 
and  imperious,  and  were  wont  to  vindicate  their  authority 
by  instantaneous  retributions,  falling  on  the  head  of  every 
transgressor,  there  could  be  no  room  for  the  sort  of  trial 
human  nature  is  actually  undergoing ;  and  no  place  for 
such  virtue,  as  human  virtue  is  required  to  be.  Space, 
necessarily,  is  given  to  the  debauched  to  make  mockery  of 
all  goodness,  and  to  call  virtue  hypocrisy,  if  the  virtuous 
are  to  be  trained  to  constancy  in  adhering  to  their  princi- 
ples, amid  obloquy  and  contempt. 

The  same  rule  demands  that,  if  the  calmness  and 
12 


122  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

energy  of  faith  are  to  be  proved,  scepticism  should  have 
its  play,  and  should  be  permitted  to  run  its  round  of  scorn 
without  rebuke.     This  scope  given  to  disbelief,  in  regard 
to  the  truth  of  revealed  religion,  is  precisely  parallel  to  the 
scope  afforded  to  profligacy  and  fraud,  in  relation  to  the 
principles  of  natural  virtue.     It  is  not  that  these  princi- 
ples are  in  themselves  ambiguous,  or  unfixed,  for  the  con- 
trary is  true :  but  the  proof  of  them,  with  their  sanctions, 
does  not  flame  out  before  our  eyes,  does  not  ring  in  our 
ears ;  in  a  word,  is  not   obtrusive,  and  therefore  may 
readily  be   neglected  and  forgotten.     And  so,  as  to  the 
proof  and  authority  of  religion ;  it  is  complete ;  it  is  irre- 
fragable ;  it  is  super-abundant  in  quantity  ;  it  is  perfect  in 
quality:  but  it   no  more  forces  itself  upon  the  notice  of 
men,  than  the  magnificence  of  the   midnight  skies  con- 
strains the  vulgar  mass  of  mankind  to  adore  the  power 
and  majesty  of  the  Creator.    Of  the  myriads  that,  at  night, 
are  thronging  the  streets  of  a  populous  city,  perhaps  not 
more  than  one  in  ten  thousand  ever  pauses  on  his  path  to 
read  the  great  lessons  of  theology  that  are  inscribed  upon 
the  skies;  nevertheless  it  is  always  true,  whether  lhat 
truth  be  heeded  or  not,  that — "the  heavens  declare  the 
glory  of  God."     And  it  is  thus  that  the  brighter  glories  of 
the  Divine  Nature  are  spread  forth  upon  the  page  of  Scrip- 
ture but  they  attract  only  the  eye  that  freely  fixes  itself 
upon  them  ;  and  whoever  turns  away  in  listlessness,  may 
do  so  at  his  pleasure. 

The  imperative  and  overwhelming  force  that  might  be 
brought  in  upon  the  side  of  virtue  from  an  unreserved  dis- 
covery of  things  universal  and  "  eternal"  is  as  we  see, 
rigidly  denied  to  man.  Nature  denies  it,  by  confining  him 
to  the  acre  of  earth  on  which  he  is  born  ;  and  Revelation 
denies  it,  by  the  stern  reserve,  the  paucity,  and  the  incom- 


THE  LIMITS  OP  REVELATION.  .        123 

pleteness-  of  its  communications.  This  being  our  actual 
position  (at  which  it  would  be  at  once  a  folly  and  an  impi- 
ety to  murmur)  there  are  two  courses  for  our  choice  ;  and 
not  only  must  every  man  eventually  choose  between  the 
two  ;  but  every  man's  present  state,  moral  and  religious, 
is  practically  a  choice  of  the  one  or  the  other.  Before  every 
man,  and  on  his  right  hand  and  on  his  left,  thronging, 
clamorous,  and  importunate,  are  the  things  "  seen  and  tem- 
poral ;" — those  single  and  insulated  facts,  those  special 
and  individual  occasions,  which  urge  themselves  upon  his 
regard  ;  but  always  with  a  false  argument,  because  it  is  a 
partial  argument.  But  (here  are  also,  within  the  know- 
ledge of  every  man,  more  or  less  distinctly,  the  things 
"  unseen  and  eternal ;" — or  those  universal  and  unalterable 
truths  which  must,  in  the  end,  rule  his  destiny,  for  the 
better  or  the  worse.  To  follow  and  to  comply  with  the 
solicitations  of  the  things  "  seen  and  temporal,"  is,  in  all 
cases,  and  with  an  infallible  certainty,  to  go  on  towards 
damage,  overthrow,  misery.  Nothing  can  avert  the  ruin, 
nothing  dissolve  the  connexion  between  the  course  and  its 
issue ; — if  that  course  be  persisted  in. 

But  on  the  contrary,  to  draw  our  motives  from  those 
principles  that  are  universal,  "  unseen  and  eternal,"  is  to 
follow  a  road  which,  by  a  like  infallible  necessity,  leads  to 
perfection  and  felicity.  The  line  of  truth  and  virtue  is 
always  (find  it  where  we  may)  a  line  drawn  from  the  cir- 
cumference to  the  centre  ;  and  to  no  other  centre  than 
that  of  the  Divine  Purity  and  Blessedness.  Now  the 
office  of  Christianity  is  to  supersede  the  innumera- 
ble questions  and  perplexities  that  arise  (even  to  the 
most  upright  and  perspicacious  minds)  iri  ascertain- 
ing the  path  of  eternal  truth.  The  Scriptures,  by  a 
multitude  of  categorical  and  intelligible  decisions,  adapted 
to  all  occasionsj  distinguish  between  the  things  seen 


124  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

and  temporal,  and  those  that  are  unseen  and  eternal. 
And  to  take  them  always  as  our  directory,  is  to  walk  upon 
a  path  which,  whether  rugged  or  smooth,  overshadowed 
or  illuminated,  shall  bring  us  at  length  to  immortality  and 

joy- 
Holy  Scriptures,  we  say,  is  an  infallible  guide  towards 
that  which  is  unseen  and  eternal.  But  it  would  be  in  no 
consistency  with  what  we  see  of  the  construction  of  the 
universe — in  none  with  the  actual  position  of  man,  such 
as  we  feel  and  know  it  to  be,  if  it  afforded  either  sensible? 
or  demonstrative  proof ;  or  if,  in  its  discoveries,  it  went  nt 
all  beyond  the  line  of  its  immediate  purpose.  The  inspired 
writers  avow  the  limitation  under  which  they  acted — "  We 
know  in  part,"  say  they,  "and  we  prophesy  in  part." 
Noble  profession  !  how  well  beseeming  the  true  and  modest 
messengers  of  heaven  !  How  unlike  the  vain  style  of  im- 
posters  ! 

But  it  behoves  us  distinctly  to  apprehend  the  import  of 
this  apostolic  profession  :  and  in  doing  so,  we  gain  some 
real  aid  by  turning  to  contemplate  the  vastness  of  the  ma- 
terial universe,  whence  may  be  drawn  an  inference  highly 
significant  to  our  purpose.  Our  modern  philosophy  estab- 
lishes incontestably  the  doctrine,  that  the  material  system, 
whatever  may  be  its  extent,  or  even  though  it  should  be 
deemed  to  stretch  through  the  infinitude  of  space,  is  related 
in  all  its  parts  to  the  whole ;  or  in  other  words,  that  an 
efficient  dependency  or  correspondence  links  every  globe  to 
its  system  ;  and  also  that  every  system,  or  cluster  of  spheres) 
is,  by  the  same  laws,  connected  with  the  great  commu- 
nity of  worlds,  among  which  it  moves,  or  is  suspended. 
The  all-pervading  principle  of  gravitation,  the  transmission 
of  light,  and  the  traject  of  comets,  are  manifest  alliance, 
which  give  oneness,  continuity,  and  relation,  to  the  count- 


THE  LIMITS  OF  REVELATION.  125 

less  assemblage  of  worlds  around  us.  It  is  also  more  than 
barely  probable  that  there  are  other,  perhaps  many  other, 
influences  or  principles  of  interaction,  which,  though  abso- 
lutely imperceptible  to  the  senses  of  man,  and  far  remote 
from  the  reach  of  his  philosophy,  do,  as  well  as  gravitation 
and  light,  bind  together  all  the  solid  masses  of  the  universe, 
and  impart  to  each  sphere  an  agency  that  extends  itself  to 
all  others. 

Now  it  follows  directly  and  inevitably  from  this  doctrine 
of  the  unity  of  the  material  system,  and  of  the  relation 
of  every  part  to  the  whole,  that,  though  the  mechanism 
or  constitution  of  each  world  or  system  may  be,  to  a  cer- 
tain extent,  understood  and  explained  ;  that  is  to  say,  just 
so  far  as  its  constitution  is  private ;  there  must,  in  each 
world,  be  some  elements  or  some  energies,  or  contrivances, 
which  have  relation  to  the  universal  system.  Besides 
what  might  be  termed  the  local  mechanism  of  every 
planet,  there  must  be,  in  each,  the  mechanism  whereby  it 
is  linked  to  its  system,  and  to  the  universe.  The  very 
statement  of  this  complicated  constitution  precludes  the 
supposition  that  the  whole  of  the  mechanism  of  any  world 
can  be  understood  by  those,  how  sagacious  soever  they 
may  be,  who  are  conversant  only  with  that  one  world. 
Let  philosophy  extend  itself  as  widely  and  as  firmly  as  it 
may,  it  can  never  profess  to  have  divined  the  entire  secrets 
of  the  universe.  For  so  much  of  the  visible  creation  as  is 
within  the  circle  of  our  observation,  may  be  but  a  small 
part  of  the  whole ",  and  therefore  must  offer  to  our  calcu- 
lations nothing  more  than  partial  principles. 

The  unity  of  the  visible  creation — a  unity  that  is  demon- 
strable, carries  with  it,  a  fortiori,  the  unity  of  the  intel- 
lectual and  moral  system  to  which  it  gives  support.  In- 
deed, as  the  intellectual  and  moral  system  is,  by  congruity 

12* 


126  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

of  nature  more  directly  related  to  the  Divine  Being,  than 
the  material  world  can  be,  that  very  relation  to  the  FIRST 
CAUSE  of  life,  and  the  Centre  of  government,  implies 
some  sort  of  dependence  or  correspondence  among  all  the 
parts  :  or  even  if  the  supposition  of  an  absolute  insulation 
of  the  several  tribes  of  rational  agents  could  be  entertained, 
our  inference  would  not  be  destroyed  :  for  the  relation  of 
each  tribe  to  the  Divine  Infinitude  in  itself  implies  more  of 
what  is  incomprehensible  and  unattainable,  than  even  its 
relation  to  the  universe  of  created  beings  could  do. 

By  the  same  rule  then  that,  in  the  physiology  of  each 
planet  and  sun,  there  must  be  something  local  or  private, 
and  something  also  that  serves  as  the  link  of  connexion 
with  the  rest  of  the  universe  ;  so,  in  the  constitution  and 
history  of  every  family  of  intelligent  beings,  there  must  be 
found,  not  merely  what  belongs  to  that  family  singly  or 
individually  ;  but  what  cements  it  to  the  great  community 
of  moral  agents  ;  and  moreover  to  the  Supreme  Disposer 
of  all. 

Now  if  there  is  to  be  conveyed  to  some  one  of  these 
families  any  portion  of  those  eternal  principles  that  embrace 
the  universe  of  moral  agents,  and  that  take  their  reason 
from  the  constancy  and  infinitude  of  the  Divine  attributes, 
it  is  incontestably  certain  that  such  revelations  can  be 
nothing  more  than  disjoined  fragments,  or  insulated  appli- 
cations of.  those  celestial  canons  to  particular  cases.  By 
the  very  statement,  these  notices  of  things  eternal  are  por- 
tions of  infinity,  and  therefore  are  never  to  be  compre- 
hended and  digested,  or  reduced  to  system,  until  infinity 
itself  has  been  traversed  and  described. 

And  the  very  same  reason  which  compels  us  to  believe 
that  our  own  moral  system  (and  every  other)  has  some 
bond  of  relationship  to  the  vast  whole  of  the  now-existing 


THE  LIMITS  OF  REVELATION.  127 

universe ;  demands  also  our  belief  that  each  successive 
era  of  the  creation  has  a  connexion,  of  effect  and  of  cause, 
with  the  past  and  the  future.  'Thus,  while  there  may  be 
certain  circumstances  in  the  condition  of  an  intelligent  and 
moral  community  which  find  their  reason  in  the  present 
relation  of  that  race  or  family  to  the  universal  family,  there 
may  be  other  circumstances,  affecting  it,  which  are  not  to 
be  explained  without  having  reference  to  the  most  remote 
transactions  (past  or  future).  The  infinitude  of  space,  and 
the  infinitude  of  duration — boundless  exjent,  and  unlimited 
eternity,  must  both  have  their  share  in  determining  the 
actual  condition  of  whatever  exists  in  space  and  time. 

What  created  mind  then  shall  undertake  to  calculate 
these  two  intersecting  orbits,  or  give  us  the  position  of  our 
own  system  upon  both  7  Powers  immeasurably  greater 
than  those  of  man  must  fail  here.  Created  minds — the 
very  highest  in  excellence  and  power,  must  confess  them- 
selves always  to  be  mastered  by  problems  like  these,  that 
embrace  the  relations  of  infinity.  This  is  a  knowledge 
which  can  belong  only  to  the  Infinite  Mind. 

Yet  it  is  true  that  some  particular  bearings  of  things 
eternal  and  infinite,  upon  things  finite,  may  be  expressed, 
and  conveyed  by  the  Supreme  Mind,  even  to  inferior  orders 
of  intelligent  beings.  And  it  is  these  special  relations  of 
the  infinite  to  the  finite  that  will  form  the  principle  topic 
of  a  Divine  Revelation.  But  need  it  be  said,  that  such 
communications  must  come  in  the  form  of  categorical 
affirmations,  and  can,  by  no  possibility,  be  given  to  us  in 
their  native  magnitude  and  proportions,  as  universal  truths? 
The  precise  sense  of  the  apostolic  confession — "  we  proph- 
esy in  part,"  meets  us  here :  and  we  must  admit,  not 
merely  the  fact  that  the  Scriptures  convey  a  partial  or  very 
limited  knowledge  of  things  eternal,  or  (to  vary  the  phrase) 


128  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

of  the  universal  government  of  God ;  but  also  acknow- 
ledge, that  this  paucity  and  limitation  is  matter  of  inevita- 
ble necessity,  arising  from  the  very  nature  of  the  case. 

If  this  be  the  fact,  two  opposite  and  very  common  faults 
in  the  treatment  given  to  the  Scriptures  make  themselves 
apparent.  The  first  is  that  of  the  SCEPTICAL  EXPOSITOR  ; 
the  second  is  that  of  the  SYSTEMATIC,  or  dogmatical. 
The  practice  of  the  sceptical  expositor  is  precisely  parallel 
to  that  of  a  physiologist,  who,  having  made  himself  well 
acquainted  with  the  mechanism  and  laws  of  his  native 
planet ; — its  geology,  its  chemical  constitution,  and  its 
vegetable  and  animal  organizations,  should  repudiate  or 
neglect  all  those  more  mysterious  and  inexplicable  pheno- 
mena which  indicate  the  relation  of  that  planet  to  the 
great  system  of  the  universe.  Or  if  he  did  not  treat  such 
phenomena  with  contempt,  should  persist  in  the  endeavour 
to  explain  them  in  connexion  with  the  private  or  home 
economy  of  earth.  On  the  contrary,  he  ought  always  to 
keep  in  mind,  that  this  single  world  is  an  inconsiderable 
member  only  of  a  system  far  more  extensive  than  human 
philosophy  can  embrace  :  and  that  therefore  it  is  probable 
— nay  cerain,  that  the  relation  of  the  part  to  the  whole, 
overrules  the  private  mechanism  of  each  planet  through- 
out. 

Tt  is  thus  that  the  sceptical  expositor  of  Scripture,  having 
gathered  to  himself  (very  incorrectly  it  is  probable)  a  sys- 
tem of  divine  and  moral  philosophy,  from  the  homestead 
of  the  human  family,  resolves  to  receive  from  God's  Rev- 
elation not  a  jot  or  tittle  that  does  not  naturally  find  a 
place  in  some  compartment  of  his  mundane  science. 
Whatever,  in  the  Scriptures,  seems  to  pass  on  elliptically 
beyond  the  orbit  of  our  world — whatever  stretches  itself  out 
to  greater  dimensions  than  the  human  mind  can  readily 


THE   LIMITS  OP  REVELATION.  129 

compass — whatever  dimly  declares  the  relation  of  the  hu- 
man system  to  the  universe  of  moral  agents,  or  to  the  in- 
finitude of  the  divine  Nature — all  such  things,  because  no 
place  or  nook  can  be  found  for  them  in  the  previously- 
manufactured  philosophy,  of  this  terrene  theologian — be- 
cause they  can  be  but  imperfectly  understood,  or  must  be 
received  (if  at  all)  as  bare  affirmations,  all  these  things, 
we  say,  he  discards  and  contemns  ;  and  in  high  scorn 
casts  them  out  for  the  acceptance  of  the  superstitious  vul- 
gar. This  is  the  wisdom  of  scepticism  ;  and  who  must 
not  admire  it ! 

The  dogmatist,  or  framer  of  systematic  theology,  vehe- 
mently denounces  the  impiety  of  the  sceptic ;  and  seems 
to  take  a  position  at  the  farthest  possible  remove  from  such 
presumption.  His  presumption  is  in  fact  of  another  sort ; 
but  the  hypothesis — the  false  supposition,  on  which  he 
proceeds  is  essentially  the  same  as  that  of  the  sceptic. 
Both  the  dogmatist  and  the  sceptic  commence  their  exposi- 
tion of  Scripture  with  the  assumed  principle — '  That  there 
ought  to  be  nothing  in  Revelation  which  may  not  be  ex- 
hibited in  all  the  proportions  and  relations  it  bears  to  other 
parts  of  our  theology.'  They  are  both  equally  impatient 
of  whatever  refuses  to  go  to  its  destined  place  in  their  phi- 
losophy :  neither  the  one  nor  the  other  can  tolerate  those 
seeming  anomalies  which  of  necessity  present  themselves 
when  the  bearing  of  the  infinite  upon  the  finite  is  to  be 
set  forth.  But  the  two  (though  animated  by  the  same 
spirit  of  folly)  have  recourse  to  opposite  means  for  ridding 
themselves  of  the  annoyance  of  what  is  intractable  in 
Scripture.  The  sceptic  takes  the  easy  course  of  simply 
discarding  all  such  materials.  The  dogmatist,  with  more 
reverence  indeed,  but  not  more  modesty,  retains  the  entire 
mass  of  Scripture  ;  but  puts  in  movement  the  irresistible 


130  SATURDAY"  EVENING. 

engine  of  his  logical  apparatus ;  and  nothing  can  resist 
the  stress  and  power  of  this  machinery.  In  fact,  absolute- 
ly nothing  retains  its  native  form  after  it  has  passed  under 
the  tooth  and  lever  of  metaphysical  compression.  Forth 
comes  orthodox  Divinity !  not  indeed  the  sublime  end 
mysterious  Divinity  of  the  Scriptures; — but  that  of  the 
Chair. 

Meantime,  with  the  modest  majesty  of  Truth,  with  the 
awful  grandeur  that  belongs  to  what  is  universal  and 
eternal,  the  Scriptures  hold  forth  their  insulated  revelations 
of  things  necessary  to  be  known,  or  partly  known,  by 
mankind.  Silently,  yet  intelligibly,  by  their  style  and 
method,  the  inspired  writers  everywhere  profess  that  they 
are  conveying  only  some  separate  elements  of  Divine 
Science ;  and  each,  in  his  manner,  makes  the  acknowledg- 
ment— "We  know  in  part,  and  we  prophesy  in  part." 


XI, 

VASTNESS  OF  THE   MATERIAL   UNIVERSE, 

"  When  I  consider  the  Heavens — what  is  Man  f 


AN  inference,  either  for  the  better  or  the  worse,  urges 
itself  irresistably  upon  the  mind  of  man  when  he  contem- 
plates the  noctural  heavens ;  and  if  mere  contemplation 
gives  place  to  the  extended  knowledge  and  to  the  accuracy 
of  conception  which  are  the  fruit  of  science,  that  inferenceT 
whether  true  or  false,  is  incalculably  strengthened  in  its 
power  over  the  mind.  With  an  emphasis  of  meaning  it 
may  be  said  that  Night  has  three  daughters — Religion, 
Superstition,  and  Atheism. 

It  much  imports  us,  who  adhere  to  those  just  and  na- 
tural impressions  which  lead  the  mind  from  the  contem- 
plation of  the  visible  creation  to  adore  the  Creator,  that  we 
draw  our  devout  inferences  in  a  manner  that  shall  be  liable 
to  no  reasonable  objection  ;  and  the  more  so  in  the  present 
age,  when  Atheism  is  hastening  to  occupy  the  ground 
which  Superstition  long  ago  vacated,  as  if  in  fear  lest  Re- 
ligion should  at  length  come  in,  and  fill  the  space  that 
rightfully  belongs  to  her. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  that  if  the  understanding  of 
man  (as  well  as  his  other  faculties)  were  in  the  state  of 
unimpaired  simplicity,  the  spectacle  of  the  universe  would 
teach  him  piety,  even  if  he  had  not  learned  it  in  some 
more  direct  way.  First  the  exterior  magnificence  of  the 
skies,  so  brightly  symbolizing  as  it  does  the  wealth  and 
splendour  of  Almighty  Regal  Power,  and  then  those  severer 
calculations  and  rational  conjectures,  wherein  the  mind 


SATURDAY  EVENING. 

penetrates  beyond  the  mere  beauty  and  grandeur  of  the 
scene,  and  eagerly  makes  its  path  athwart  the  unmeasur- 
ed spaces,  and  subjoins  to  what  is  visible,  its  own  vigorous 
conceptions  of  magnitude,  number,  distance ;  from  both 
these  sources,  a  mind  retaining  its  integrity,  would  infer 
the  great  truth  of  the  Divine  Existence  ;  and  its  power, 
and  wisdom,  and  beneficence. 

But  in  the  actual  state  of  human  nature,  wherein  the 
rational  faculties  are  often  uncertainly  balanced  between 
the  most  obvious  truths,  and  the  most  enormous  errors,  not 
knowing  which  to  choose,  piety  must  always  be  first  im- 
parted by  other'means,  and  the  emotions  be  fixed  upon 
their  proper  objects,  before  man  is  qualified  to  admit  the 
lesson  written  upon  the  skies,  and  to  adore  the  Creator  in 
the  sensible  manifestations  of  his  glory. 

Piety,  we  say,  being  first  imparted,  the  spectacle  of 
the  material  universe  must  be  considered  as  the  principal 
means  available  for  aiding  both  the  reasoning  powers  and 
the  imagination,  in  their  painful  efforts  to  conceive  worthily 
of  the  Divine  Nature.  Though  it  be  well  understood  that 
matter,  divisible  as  it  is,  and  separable  into  elements,  and 
measurable,  can  bear  no  true  proportion  to  that  nature 
which  is  spiritual,  uncaused,  and  infinite,  nevertheless  the 
actual  extension  of  matter  through  a  space  whereto  no 
methods  of  human  calculation  can  give  expression,  does 
very  sufficiently  serve  as  an  exemplification,  or  intelligible 
display  of  real  infinitude.  Effectively,  though  not  strictly, 
the  visible  heavens  are  of  infinite  magnitude ;  and  they 
convey  therefore  to  the  mind  an  impression,  if  not  a  dis- 
tinct idea,  of  absolute  infinity,  such  as  otherwise  it  could 
never  have  received.  Moreover,  the  visible  infinitude  of 
the  heavens  is  not  a  vacuum — not  a  bare  abstraction  ;  but 
on  the  contrary,  is  so  richly  fraught  with  existences,  that 


VASTNESS  OP  THE  MATERIAL  UNIVERSE.          133 

we  receive  thence  at  once,  and  in  the  closest  combination, 
the  ideas  of  power,  and  of  intelligence,  along  with  the 
notion  of  unbounded  extension.  In  this  manner,  more 
than  one  or  two  of  the  elements  of  theology  are  made 
ostensible  to  us  ;  and  while  we  are  becoming  familiar  with 
them,  are  learning  to  pass  on  with  some  facility  to  other, 
and  more  abstruse  principles  of  Divine  science.  It  is  in 
this  process  that  "  the  invisible  things  of  God"  are  made 
manifest  by  "  the  things  that  do  appear."  The  nocturnal 
heavens  at  once  symbolize  and  demonstrate  the  conceal- 
ed existence  and  attributes  of  God,  just  as  the  presence 
and  symmetry  of  a  man  are  made  known  to  a  distant  spec- 
tator, when  the  shadow  of  his  person,  in  sharp  outline,  falls 
upon  a  brightly  illuminated  surface :  we  see  not  indeed 
the  man,  nor  in  strictness  of  argument  is  it  more  than  his 
exterior  form  of  which  we  have  direct  evidence  :  neverthe- 
less we  do  not  scruple  to  fill  up  in  idea  what  is  wanting  in 
formal  proof ;  and  we  think  almost  as  distinctly  of  the  per- 
son as  if  he  stood,  without  a  screen,  fronting  us  in  the  blaze 
of  light.  Thus  is  it  that,  both  in  the  vastuess  and  in  the 
richness  of  the  visible  universe,  the  Invisible  God  is 
adumbrated.  If  the  eye  be  but  clear,  we  can  never  gaze 
upon  the  expanse  of  stars  without  descrying,  as  it  were 
filling  all  the  bright  abyss  of  worlds,  the  great  lines,  or 
contour,  of  the  Supreme  Majesty. 

This  must  always  be  the  doctrine  derived  by  sound 
reason  from  the  spectacle  of  the  universe.  But  if  reason 
be  corrupted  and  depraved,  it  brings  thence  some  absurdity, 
proportioned  in  folly  to  the. greatness  and  excellence  of  the 
truth  it  rejects.  The  ancient  prostitution  of  astronomy  to 
purposes  of  superstition  and  of  sacerdotal  despotism,  is  a 
trite  subject,  nob  necessary  here  to  be  enlarged  upon. — 
Nevertheless,  it  may  just  be  observed,  that  the  Tsabian 

13 


134  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

worship  of  the  Asiatic  nations  was  far  more  in  harmony 
with  the  proper  impulses  of  the  human  mind,  and  did 
much  less  violence  to  the  moral  constitution  of  man,  than 
the  atheism  which,  in  modern  times,  has  taken  its  place. 
And  if,  in  remote  ages,  the  worshippers  of  the  true  God 
were  in  great  peril  from  the  bewitching  error  which  then 
led  captive  the  mass  of  mankind,  and  laid  them  prostrate 
at  the  feet  of  idols  ;  there  is  not  now  a  less  danger  (a  dan- 
ger suited  to  the  spirit  of  our  times)  resulting  from  the 
impiety  of  our  astronomical  and  physical  sciences. 

This  impiety  assumes  two  distinct  forms ;  the  one  bold, 
the  other  modest ;  to  both  of  which  a  moment's  atten- 
tion is  due.  Bacon,  who  originated  our  modern  philosophy, 
and  Newton,  who  established  its  authenticity — the  two 
minds  that,  more  than  any  others,  have  ruled  the  world 
of  mind,  and  ruled  it  by  a  just  title,  both  of  them  believed 
that  they  saw  the  proof  of  Supreme  Intelligence  in  the 
construction  of  the  material  universe.  But  it  is  otherwise 
with  their  successors,  who  have  learned  to  look  upon  these 
masters  of  knowledge  with  contempt,  as  having,  in  child- 
ish docility,  espoused  the  vulgar  belief  of  the  existence  of 
a  Creator.  Posterity  will  give  its  verdict  in  this  disagree- 
ment between  our  earlier  and  later  philosophers  ;  and  will 
decide  on  which  part  the  folly  actually  lies.  Meanwhile 
we  have  to  make  an  observation  (pertinent  to  our  immedi- 
ate subject)  upon  this  fact  of  the  very -prevalent  atheism 
of  our  modern  professors  of  natural  philosophy. 

It  has  been  thought  by  some  persons,  and  acknowledged 
with  uneasiness,  (we  think  a  groundless  uneasiness,)  that 
the  mere  fact,  that  atheism  is  avowed  by  men  of  high  in- 
telligence, virtually  nullifies,  or  at  least  brings  under  a 
cloud,  the  alleged  demonstrative  force  of  the  two  lines  of 
argument — a  priori  and  a  posteriori)  in  proof  of  the  being 


VASTNESS  OP  THE  MATERIAL  UNIVERSE.          1 35 

of  a  God.  For  (as  it  is  said)  if  these  lines  of  reasoning 
were  indeed  conclusive,  and  if  in  the  rejection  of  them  there 
were  contained  a  conspicuous  absurdity,  they  must  of  ne- 
cessity preclude  dissent ;  at  least  among  well-informed  and 
intelligent  men.  But  this  difficulty  will  not  prove  to  be 
substantial.  To  remove  it,  we  need  not  insist  upon  the 
very  fair  answer  which  might  be  given  to  it,  by  saying, 
that  no  process  of  reasoning  of  which  language  is  the 
medium  (in  fact  none  but  that  which  is  mathematical) 
can  exert  this  peremptory  power  of  excluding  controversy  ; 
because  the  signs  employed,  being  ambiguous,  may  always 
be  evaded  by  sophistry.  Instead  of  urging  this  reply  to 
the  objection,  though  valid  and  sufficient,  we  shall  look 
somewhat  more  closely  to  the  nature  of  the  case,  and  in 
doing  so,  shall  find  that  the  facts  resolve  themselves  into 
an  instance  that  is  not  uncommon  of  mental  illusion  ;  and 
that  no  real  enfeebling  of  the  foundations  of  religion  is  im- 
plied in  the  atheism  of  scientific  men. 

Those  will  most  readily  follow  our  elucidation  of  this 
matter,  who  themselves  are  conversant  with  mathematical 
or  physical  studies.  We  have  just  above  (though  for  a 
different  purpose)  adverted  to  that,  insensible  process  which 
takes  place  during  the  course  of  philosophical  generaliza- 
tions, and  in  consequence  of  which  universal  laws  gain 
ascendency  in  the  mind,  and  at  length  stand  out  conspi- 
cuously in  front  of  the  mass  or  particular  instances  whence 
they  have  sprung ;  so  that,  ultimately  they  assume  to 
themselves  a  sort  of  POSITIVE  EXISTENCE,  almost  a  per- 
sonal reality,  and  come  to  be  thought  of  as  something  dis- 
tinct from  the  individuality  and  passiveness  of  matter. 
Especially  in  the  regions  of  the  higher  mathematics,  cer- 
tain abstruse  principles  and  relations,  by  the  simplifications 
that  result  from  them,  by  the  facilities  which,  when  once 


136  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

mastered,  they  afford ;  and  especially,  by  the  revelations 
they  dimly  make  of  boundless  fields  investigation — worlds 
of  unexplored  mystery,  quicken  the  imagination  which, 
without  asking  leave  of  reason,  invests  them  in  shadowy 
majesty,  and  by  a  prosopopoeia,  grants  to  them  something 
like  the  graces  and  dignity  of  so  many  divinities. 

The  now  well-ascertained  correspondence  between  the 
laws  of  motion  and  gravitation,  and  the  abstract  truths  of 
mathematical  science,  seems  to  impart  to  the  latter  (espe- 
cially after  they  have  possessed  themselves  of  the  under- 
standing) a  sort  of  domination,  or  active  efficiency.  And 
from  this  prejudice,  or  illusion,  the  mind  unconsciously 
slides  into  the  farther  error  (which  it  never  distinctly  ex- 
amines) of  attributing  to  these  universal  and  eternal  truths 
the  prerogatives  of  Intelligence.  The  two  notions  of  in- 
telligence and  power  became  so  closely  associated  with  cer- 
tain abstruse  mathematical  principles,  and  these  principle?, 
in  presenting  themselves  again  and  again  as  the  RULING 
CAUSES  of  all  that  is  taking  place  in  the  universe,  supplant 
the  higher  truth  of  a  FIRST  CAUSE,  and  reconcile  the 
mind  (from  other  motives  easily  persuaded)  to  the  most 
enormous  of  all  absurdities — the  denial  of  that  truth. 

But  it  is  most  especially  to  be  noted  that  this  perversion 
of  right  reason,  how  great  soever  it  may  be,  does  not  im- 
ply that  there  is  no  irresistible  and  invariable  impulse  in 
the  human  mind,  obliging  it  always  to  look  up  from  effects 
to  causes,  and  leading  it  from  the  contemplation  of  the 
universe,  to  the  belief,  yes,  the  persuasion  of  a  First  Cause 
and  Intelligent  Creator.  On  the  contrary,  this  primary 
instinct  of  reason  is  as  truly  at  work  in  the  bosom  of  the 
the  philosophical  atheist,  as  in  that  of  the  theologian.  But, 
like  every  other  instinct,  it  is  liable  to  misdirection,  or  per- 
verted action.  The  atheist,  let  him  boast  as  he  may, 


VASTSESS  OF  THE  MATERIAL  UNIVERSE.     137 

though  an  impious,  is  not  a  godless  man  (for  no  one  can 
be  such) ;  but  the  deity — the  invisible  and  potent  intelli- 
gence that  floats  before  him,  and  which  he  unnaturally 
worships,  is  the  system  of  abstract  truth  he  seems  to  see 
sitting  mistress  of  all  worlds.  Meanwhile  the  various  and 
highly  embellished  superstructure  of  the  material  world — 
its  multiform  provisions — speaking  as  much  of  moral  in- 
tention, as  of  wisdom,  and  which  can  be  traced  to  no  other 
cause  than  Intelligent  Beneficence,  do  not  occupy  the  at- 
tention of  this  mathematical  reasoner ; — they  are  in  his 
apprehension  only  trivial  and  vulgar  adjuncts  of  the  great 
system  of  things  : — they  belong  not  to  his  department ; 
and  he  finds  no  difficulty  in  rebutting  the  evidence  they 
afford  of  a  truth  to  which  his  own  studies  do  not  compel 
him  to  assent. 

But  there  is,  we  have  said,  a  mild  and  modest  form, 
as  well  as  this  bolder  one,  of  that  impiety  which  takes  its 
rise  from  the  circle  of  our  modern  astronomy  : — and  it  may 
be  thus  described.  It  admits  freely  the  Divine  Existence, 
and  the  attributes  of  wisdom,  power,  and  benevolence :  but 
in  musing  upon  the  vastness  of  the  material  system — in 
calculating  the  incalculable  numbers  of  visible  worlds,  in 
adding  to  those  the  higher  numbers  which  probably  lie 
quite  beyond  our  prospect ;  in  thus  conversing  with  infi- 
nity, and  in  surcharging  the  mind  with  the  greatness  of 
nature,  man  and  his  destinies  disappear,  or  seem  to  hide 
themselves  under  a  veil  of  utter  insignificance.  "  If,  when 
our  eyes  are  confined  to  earth,  and  if,  when  the  pomp 
of  human  power  and  the  pride  of  human  knowledge  are 
full  in  our  view,  man  shows  himself  to  be  great,  and  as- 
serts an  immeasurable  superiority  over  the  inferior  tribes, 
this  exaggerated  impression  is  utterly  dispelled  when  we 
turn  our  gaze  upward,  and  bring  (as  we  ought)  into  our 

13* 


138  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

estimate,  the  real  magnitude  of  the  system  in  which  we 
are  moving.  It  is  then  that,  we  are  taught  to  think  sober- 
ly of  ourselves  : — It  is  then  that  the  apparent  distance  be- 
tween man — insect  as  he  is,  aud  the  insects  he  proudly 
tramples  on,  sinks  into  nothing  ;  and  we  are  compelled  to 
confess  that  no  folly  can  be  so  enormous  as  that  which 
attaches  any  substantial  importance  to  a  being  that  might, 
with  all  his  millions,  be  blotted  from  creation  without  more 
loss  or  notice  than  is  occasioned  by  the  crushing  of  a  moth. 
If  things  be  so,  how  preposterous  are  those  religious  dogmas 
which  place  man  in  immediate  correspondence  with  the 
Creator,  and  imply  that  the  Sovereign  Power  actually  oc- 
cupies himself  with  the  individual  welfare  of  men  ;  or  that 
they  are  destined  to  act  a  part  that  shall  make  them  con- 
spicuous among  high  and  intelligent  orders  !  What  is 
man,"  says  a  reasoner  of  this  class,  "  what  is  man,  when 
viewed  in  his  just  proportions  on  the  scale  of  the  universe  ?" 

This  mode  of  thinking  is  natural,  and  the  pejudice 
whence  it  springs  is  hard  to  be  entirely  dislodged  from  the 
mind  :  but  it  is  a  prejudice  ;  and  it  peculiarly  infests  spirits 
that  are  at  once  meditative,  modest,  and  feeble.  Neverthe- 
less its  influence  is  of  the  most  pernicious  kind ;  nor  will 
religion  of  any  sort  (Christianity  especially)  adhere  at  all  to 
the  heart  until  the  illusion  be  dissipated. 

On  which  side  soever  we  turn,  we  may  find  a  direct 
confutation  of  this  false  modesty.  It  is  quite  evident  that 
the  whole  (great  as  it  may  be)  must  at  length  be  annihi- 
lated or  made  unimportant,  when  we  annihilate  or  reduce 
to  insignificance,  one  by  one,  its  several  constituent  parts. 
And  the  reason  which  would  lead  us  thus  to  scorn  one 
part,  ought  to  have  the  same  effect  in  relation  to  another 
and  another,  until  the  whole  is  disposed  of.  The  material 
universe  consists  throughout  of  portions,  apparently  simi- 


VASTNESS  OP  THE  MATERIAL  UNIVERSE.          139 

lar  to  that  on  which  ourselves  are  placed  :  nor  is  this  our 
world,  however  diminutive  in  comparison  with  the  universe 
immensely  diminutive  in  comparison  with  other  worlds. 
It  is  not  as  if,  from  our  remote  and  petty  globe  or  islet,  we 
looked  up  to  some  central  and  immeasurable  continent  of 
matter,  wherewith  we  could  place  ourselves  in  no  sort  of 
comparison,  and  which  we  might  suppose  the  abode  of 
beings  as  much  more  excellent  and  important  than  our- 
selves, as  that  continent  was  more  vast  than  this  world  on 
which  we  tread.  On  the  contrary,  the  greatness  of  the 
universe  is  nothing  else  than  the  greatness  of  accumula- 
tion. The  visible  system  is  indeed  immeasurably  wide 
and  deep ;  and  it  is  stocked  with  innumerable  worlds. 
But  (so  far  as  science  gives  its  evidence)  the  stupendous 
structure  is  reared  throughout  of  the  same  material,  and 
consists  of  parts  which  bear  a  relation  of  symmetry,  one 
to  the  other. 

If,  in  imagination,  we  stretch  the  wing  to  distant  quar- 
ters of  the  realm  of  nature,  and  if  we  take  with  us  the 
sober  expectations  which  philosophy  authenticates,  what 
shall  we  find — east  or  west,  above  or  below,  but  suns  and 
planets,  much  diversified,  no  doubt,  in  figure  and  constitu- 
tion ;  yet  nothing  more  than  solid  spheres,  of  measurable 
diameter,  and  fraught,  like  our  own,  with  organization  and 
intelligence.  Let  us  indulge  as  freely  as  we  choose,  in 
prodigious  conceptions  of  magnitude  and  splendour  ;  still 
we  must  (unless  we  discard  all  probability,  and  all  actual 
appearances)  keep  within  certain  bo  inds.  Suns  are 
but  suns ;  planets  only  planets.  This  vastness  of 
the  universe,  therefore,  which  when  thought  of  collec- 
tively, overpowers  the  mind,  reduces  itself,  when  rationally 
analyzed,  to  what  we  have  already  stated — namely,  the 
greatness  of  accumulation.  Who  shall  count  the  stars,  or 
who  number  the  worlds  that  are  revolving  around  those 


140  SATURDAY  EVEHIWS. 

centres  of  light?  No  one  attempts  this  arithmetic;  any 
more  than  he  sets  about  to  reckon  the  sands  of  the  shore: 
but  the  infinitude  of  grains  makes  not  each  grain  either 
more  or  less  important  than  it  would  be,  if  the  number  of 
the  whole  were  much  fewer  that  it  is. 

And  certainly,  if  our.  earth  may  retain  its  individual 
importance,  notwithstanding  the  countless  infinity  of  the 
worlds  among  which  it  moves  ;  it  may  do  so  notwithstand- 
ing its  comparative  diminutiveness.  True,  its  disk  is 
barely  preceptible  from  planets  which,  by  the  breadth  of 
their  own,  dazzle  our  sight.  But  no  such  rule  of  valua- 
tion can  ever  be  assented  to :  for  it  is  favoured  by  no 
analogy.  If  the  earth  is  to  be  deemed  insignificant,  merely 
because  it  is  vastly  less  than  Jupiter  or  Saturn,  we  ought 
to  judge  that  Greece,  Italy,  and  England,  merit  no  atten- 
tion, in  comparison  with  Africa  and  Asia  :  and  yet  in  fact 
it  is  these  petty  regions,  not  the  continents  adjoining  them 
that  have  concentrated,  successively,  the  intelligence  of  the 
world. 

But  in  looking  more  narrowly  to  this  prejudice,  and  in 
tracing  it  to  its  elements,  it  resolves  itself  altogether  into  a 
natural  infirmity  of  our  limited  faculties.  What  then  is 
this  conception  of  vastness,  and  what  is  the  emotion  of 
sublimity  that  attends  it,  and  with  which  we  so  much 
please  ourselves  ?  It  is  nothing  more,  and  it  is  nothing 
better,  than  the  struggle  or  agony  of  the  mind  under  the 
consciousness  of  its  ignorance,  and  of  its  inability  to  grasp 
the  object  of  its  contemplation.  Whatever  far  surpasses 
the  reach  of  the  intellectual  powers,  whatever  can  be  con- 
ceived of  only  imperfectly,  and  vaguely,  is  thought  of  as 
stupendous,  sublime,  infinite  ;  and  while  we  entertain  the 
ever-swelling,  but  never  perfected  idea,  an  emotion  that  is 
partly  pleasurable,  and  partly  painful,  inflates  the  bosom. 


VASTNESS  OF  THE  MATERIAL  UNIVERSE.          141 

Now  the  notion  of  insignificance,  or  diminutivenss,  though 
it  may  seem  to  be  independent  of  any  other,  is  in  fact  a 
correlative  of  the  notion  of  magnitude.  And  a  mind  that 
had  no  idea  of  greatness  or  sublimity,  would  never  form 
one  of  meanness.  But  as  the  notion  of  vastness  is  directly 
the  offspring  of  the  limitation  and  feebleness  of  the  human 
mind,  its  opposite — the  notion  of  insignificance,  has 
nothing  in  it  of  reality  :  it  is  an  idolum  tribus,  or  preju- 
dice which,  though  common  to  mankind,  is  so  in  conse- 
quence of  the  poverty  of  the  human  faculties. 

Bnt  can  we  for  a  moment  suppose  that  the  Supreme 
Intelligence  looks  abroad  upon  his  works  in  this  manner, 
as  vast  in  the  ivhole,  and  petty  in  the  parts  1.  Does  HE 
know  them  as  we  do — a  portion  perfectly,  and  the  rest 
vaguely  ?  does  HE  think  of  them,  in  part  with  ease  and 
familiarity ;  and  in  part  with  labour  and  difficulty  1  Does 
HE  see  the  universe  in  perspective,  as  from  a  central  sta- 
tion ?  Is  HE  moved  as  we  are,  by  the  conception  of  the 
sublime  ;  or  does  HE,  as  we,  look  down  at  single  atoms 
of  the  material  system,  and  call  them  minute,  remote,  or 
inconsiderable  ?  Any  such  supposition  as  this  were  most 
egregious : — on  the  contrary,  we  may  boldly  affirm  thati 
as  the  Divine  Knowledge  is  absolute,  and  extends  itself 
equally  and  invariably,  over  the  entire  surface,  and 
through  all  masses  of  the  universe,  so  it  utterly  excludes 
the  notion  (proper  to  finite  minds)  of  any  part  being  insig- 
nificant and  unimportant,  in  consequence  of  its  dispropor- 
tion to  the  immensity  of  the  whole.  There  is  perhaps  no 
instance  more  striking  of  the  influence  of  those  imbecile 
conceptions  which  attach  to  the  human  mind,  than  this 
notion  of  the  comparative  insignificance  of  the  earth,  and 
its  inhabitants,  because  it  is  a  mere  point  in  the  vastness 
of  the  heavens.  The  man  of  frigid  and  infirm  tempera- 


142  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

meat,  who,  with  an  affected  or  a  puling  modesty,  after 
gazing  upon  the  sky,  turns  and  contemns  his  planet,  and 
his  species,  and  says — "  What  is  man,  that  he  should 
think  himself  worthy  to  be  noticed,  or  specially  cared  for 
by  the  Creator?"  may  on  the  soundest  principles,  be  charg- 
ed with  making  God  altogether  such  a  one  as  himself;  the 
deity  he  conceives  of  as  finite,  not  infinite. 

If  we  wanted  sensible  proof  that  this  prejudice  concern- 
ing comparative  vastness  and  insignificance,  is  not  at  all 
recognized  on  high,  and  enters  not  into  the  operative 
principles  of  the  Creator,  we  should  only  have  to  look  be- 
neath us,  adown  the  scale  of  magnitude.  Does  it  appear 
then,  as  if  the  Divine  power  and  intelligence  could  please 
itself  only,  or  deign  to  be  occupied  with  stupendous  mas- 
ses ;•  and  that  it  holds  in  contempt  the  minute  ?  Is  it  true, 
or  does  the  microscope  give  this  evidence,  that  there  is 
ontya  rude  or  hurried  finishing  bestowed  upon  diminutive 
beings  ?  Is  there  found,  when  we  pass  from  the  greater 
to  the  less,  among  organized  bodies,  a  regular  decrease  of 
ingenuity,  and  nicety  of  workmanship?  Every  one 
knows  that  the  contrary  is  the  fact ;  and  every  one  must 
confess  that  this  puny  supposition  of  the  comparative  in- 
significance of  the  parts  of  the  material  system,  is  abun- 
dantly refuted  by  the  tints  and  texture  of  every  petal  that 
drinks  the  dew,  and  by  the  wings  and  antennae  of  every 
gnat  that  hums  in  the  evening  air. 

Those  who  think  they  discern  in  the  vastness  of  the 
material  universe  a  reason  which  weighs  against  all  reli- 
gion, and  which  especialy  excludes  the  belief  of  the  facts 
aflfirmed  in  the  Bible,  surrender  themselves,  as  we  have 
seen,  to  one  of  the  most  unsubstantial  of  all  the  illusions 
that  infest  human  nature  :  and  as  they  neglect  to  observe 
what  is  the  manifest  law  of  the  divine  operations  in  the 


VASTNESS  OF  THE  MATERIAL  UNIVERSE.          143 

organized  system — namely,  an  equable  regard  to  parts, 
and  to  beings,  whether  small  or  great ;  so  do  they  over- 
look one  of  the  first  principles  of  the  sentient  and  intellec- 
tual orders,  which  is,  that  no  faculties,  either  of  knowledge, 
or  emotion,  or  action,  are  bestowed  upon  any  animal  but 
such  as  have  some  direct  bearing-  upon  its  own  well-being; 
or  upon  its  destiny  in  relation  to  other  species  of  the  ani- 
mated world.  When  the  objector  has  produced  one 
unquestionable  exception  to  this  rule,  he  will  be  fairly 
entitled  to  maintain  his  enormous  dogma — That  the  power 
and  propensity  of  the  human  mind  to  contemplate  the  ex- 
tent of  the  universe,  and  its  habitude  of  referring  all  things 
to  an  Intelligent  First  Cause,  and  its  constitutional  dread 
of  Invisible  Power,  and  its  inextinguishable  sense  of  right 
and  wrong,  and  its  inherent  forethought  of  an  after  life, 
are  all  so  many  vague  and  inane  instincts,  which  have  no 
more  intention,  no  more  ulterior  significance,  than  the 
chance  forms  and  gigantic  figures  that  are  often  assumed 
by  the  clouds,  or  seen  upon  a  stained  wall.  Man,  accord- 
ing to  these  philosophers,  is  no  better  than  a  monster, 
combining  all  sorts  of  powers  and  means  of  action  ;  but 
without  any  scope  for  their  employment.  He  has  wings, 
and  all  the  muscular  apparatus  proper  for  flight ;  but  his 
invincible  destiny  is  to  crawl  upon  the  ground  :  he  has  the 
interior  structure  which  might  enable  him  to  exist  in  two 
elements  ;  but  he  is  actually  confined  to  one.  To  look  at 
his  limbs  you  would  say  he  might  outstrip  the  winds  ; 
but  watch  him,  and  you  find  that  he  is  passive  and  motion- 
less as  the  oyster.  This  is,  in  substance,  that  natural 
history  of  man  which  the  persons  we  speak  of  embrace, 
and  which  they  deem  philosophical.  Just  because  the 
stature  of  the  human  species  bears  an  incalculably  small 
proportion  to  the  distance  between  one  star  and  another, 


144  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

they  conclude  that  human  nature  is  far  too  insignificant 
to  allow  of  its  assuming  the  importance  which  Christianity 
assigns  to  it !  To  these  philosophers  it  is  as  nothing  that 
man  has  mind  enough  to  conceive  of  God,  and  is  actually 
alive  to  powerful  emotions  of  which  the  Supreme  Being  is 
the  object :  all  this  weighs  not  with  them,  and  is  entitled 
to  no  consideration ;  or,  at  any  rate,  cannot  compensate 
in  their  view,  the  capital  disadvantage  of  the  diminutive- 
ness  of  the  human  form.  If  they  could  visit  other  regions 
of  the  universe,  and  discover  some  world,  a  thousand  or  ten 
thousand  times  more  bulky  than  this,  and  find  upon  it 
intelligent  animals,  proportionately  gigantic,  they  would 
then  at  once  grant  you  that  creatures  so  TALL,  might  prop- 
erly challenge  for  themsleves  the  right  to  be  immortal  and 
religious ;  but  not  so  the  insect  man  !  This  is  the  real 
meaning  of  the  sentiment  that  so  powerfully  represses  the 
piety  of  certain  persons,  who,  while  with  the  aid  of  modern 
astronomy  they  contemplate  the  vast  magnitudes  and 
distances  of  the  heavenly  bodies,  exclaim — ( What  is  man 
that  he  should  presume  to  think  of  God,  or  hope  to  be  re- 
garded by  Him  ?' 

If  we  reject  with  scorn  all  such  false  and  preposterous 
inferences  from  the  vastness  of  the  stellar  system,  we  are 
left  to  seek  an  inference  which  reason  can  assent  to  as  con- 
sonant with  the  known  principles  of  the  Divine  operations. 
We  have  to  ask — What  is  that  sentiment  which  the 
human  mind  should  imbibe  when  it  stands  upon  its  turret 
of  observation,  and  looks  this  way  and  that,  over  the  res- 
plendent and  illimitable  fields  of  space  ? 

•Boldly  we  affirm  that  earth  is  not  too  small  a  globe  to 
be  thought  worthy  of  giving  birth  to.the  heirs  of  immortal- 
ity. Nor  is  man  too  diminutive  to  hold  converse  with  his 
Creator,  or  to  be  amenable  to  the  Divine  government.  He 


VASTNESS  OF  THE  MATERIAL  UNIVERSE.          145 

does  not  therefore  arrogate  to  himself  too  much  importance 
when  he  speaks  and  acts  as  one  who  stands  in  immediate 
relationship  to  God.  Nevertheless  there  are  principles 
which  should  impose  upon  him  a  modesty  arid  restraint  in 
the  range  of  his  religious  speculations.  These  are  plainly 
such  truths  as — That  the  destines  of  man  have  some 
bearing  upon  the  welfare  of  the  universe  ;  or  are  related 
to  its  general  laws  ;  and  that  the  universe  (being  so  vast 
as  it  is)  and  governed  unquestionably  by  rules  which  draw 
their  reason  not  from  a  part  of  the  system,  but  from  the 
whole  of  it,  they  must  always,  and  especially  in  the  pre- 
sent state,  surpass  the  comprehension  of  man.  In  other 
words,  it  must  be  believed,  that,  in  the  fate  and  fortunes  of 
the  human  race,  scope  is  given  to  the  operation  of  laws 
which  man  must  always  fail  to  discern  the  reason  of,  since 
it  embraces,  or  has  respect  to  the  immeasurable  realm  of 
the  Universal  King.  He  alone  whose  thought  grasps  all 
worlds,  and  all  orders  of  being,  and  all  duration,  can  digest 
or  comprehend  the  canons  by  which  all  must  be  governed. 

It  may  be  well  to  pursue  in  meditation  these  truths : 
and  to  rest  upon  them  awhile,  and  at  leisure  ;  and  it  must 
be  remembered  that  the  inference  we  have  in  view  will  be 
equally  valid,  whether  it  be  assumed  as  certain  that  the 
destinies  of  mankind  are  related  to  the  universe ;  or 
whether  it  be  only  granted  as  possible,  or  in  some  degree 
probable,  that  such  a  dependence  exists.  For  it  is  one  and 
the  same  thing  to  say — Such  and  such  inexplicable  facts 
have  a  relation  to  certain  unknown  principles  ;  or  merely 
that  they  may,  for  aught  we  know,  have  some  such  rela- 
tion. In  either  case  the  inference  stands  firm — that  we 
should  suspend  our  judgment  of  matters  which,  perhaps, 
are  only  to  a  small  extent  exposed  to  our  view. 

On  these  premises  let  the  immeasurable  extent  of  the 
14 


146  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

material  system  be,  for  a  moment,  steadily  contemplated  J 
and  though  vague  conceptions  may  generate  emotions  of 
sublimity,  the  solid  fruits  of  thought  will  always  best  spring 
from  the  most  distinct  ideas  :  but  these,  on  a  field  so 
arduous,  are  not  to  be  obtained  without  some  labour. 

That  degree  of  power  and  facility  in  conceiving  of  dis- 
tance which  the  mind  acquires  by  its  acquaintance  with 
the  surface  of  the  earth,  may,  without  any  very  extreme 
effort,  or  at  least  such  an  effort  as  tortures  and  paralyses 
the  mental  faculty,  be  extended  to  the  distances  of  the 
planets  of  our  own  system.  Not  indeed  as  if  even  the 
shortest  of  these  distances  could  be  held  before  the  mind, 
in  its  component  parts,  or  correctly  reckoned  ;  for  if  com- 
pelled to  divide  a  hundred  millions  of  miles  into  such 
portions  as  we  can  distinctly  think  of  separately  ;  and  then 
to  add  part  to  part,  until  all  were  numbered  ;  still  retain- 
ing hold  of  our  starting  point,  we  should  find  ourselves 
utterly  exhausted,  and  breathless,  long  before  one  of  those 
millions  had  been  completed.  Nevertheless  a  mental 
traject  from  world  to  world,  may,  in  some  sort,  be  accom- 
plished.— The  glass  brings,  for  example,  the  disk  of  Jupi- 
ter before  us ;  so  that  we  may  fix  the  eye  on  this  side,  or 
on  the  other,  of  his  cloud-belted  surface  ; — we  clearly  dis- 
tinguish the  forms  of  these  wreaths  of  lurid  vapour  ;  or  we 
catch  the  transit  of  one  of  his  moons — follow  the  speck  of 
shadow  in  its  hasty  course  along  the  equator  of  the  stu- 
pendous planet,  very  much  in  the  same  way  in  which 
we  catch  the  shadow  of  a  cloud,  as  it  moves  across  the 
bosom  of  a  distant  sunny  hill.  Although  the  road  thither 
baffles  us  in  the  attempt  to  mete  it  out  into  portions,  we 
can  just  imagine  ourselves  to  have  achieved  the  passage, 
and  to  set  foot  upon  that  vast  rotund;  and  can  faintly 
conceive  of  the  scene  that  would  there  present  itself,  where, 


VASTNESS  OF  THE  MATERIAL  UNIVERSE.  147 

athwart  prodigious  valleys  (each  capacious  enough  to  re- 
ceive an  Atlantic,  or  through  which  the  waves  of  all  our 
oceans  might  quietly  flow,  as  the  Ganges  glides  in  its  bed) 
the  deep  shadows  of  the  overhanging  mountains  are  flitting 
with  giddy  haste,  from  side  to  side  ;  while  the  sun  rushes 
through  the  ample  skies  to  accomplish  his  five  hours  of  day. 
Or  we  remain  at  our  post  of  observation  through  the  brief 
moments  of  night ;  and  are  dizzy  while  we  gaze  upon  the 
shining  multitude  of  moons  and  stars,  that  bursting  up 
from  the  horizon,  chase  each  other  with  visible  celerity 
from  east  to  west,  like  a  routed  host,  hotly  followed  by  the 
foe. 

Thus,  and  with  these  aids  which  the  telescope  affords 
us,  or  which  the  imagination  (authentically  informed  by 
facts)  supplies,  may  we  make  a  stage  outward  through  the 
skies :  nor  are  such  efforts  of  the  mind  to  be  accounted  vain 
and  fantastic,  like  those  waking  dreams  wherein  we  com- 
bine extravagant  images  of  things  nowhere  existing,  and 
in  themselves  preposterous  :  for  we  are  now  endeavouring 
to  fix  the  faculty  of  conception  upon  objects  that  are  palpa- 
ble, and  real,  and  which  (remote  as  they  may  be)  are  as 
truly  cognizable  by  the  sight  as  are  the  cliffs  of  an  adja- 
cent continent.  There  is  no  extravagance  in  this  attempt ; 
but  a  real  utility,  inasmuch  as  an  important  lesson  is  ob- 
tained from  the  vivid  impression  of  the  extent  of  God's 
visible  dominion.  The  same  force  of  conception  which  has 
carried  the  mind  to  the  orbit  of  Jupiter,  will  transport  it  to 
that  of  Saturn,  where  is  seen  a  sombre  splendour,  suffused 
on  all  sides,  less  apparently,  from  the  distant  and  diminished 
sun,  than  from  the  broad  surfaces  of  the  adjacent  rings, 
which  almost  blend  night  and  day,  by  overshadowing  the 
one,  and  illuminating  the  other.  Or  taking  once  again  an 
adventurous  flight,  further  than  before,  we  reach  the  outer- 


148  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

most  limit  of  our  system,  and  stand  upon  that  vast  and 
solitary  planet  which,  as  if  guardian  of  the  whole,  slowly 
walks  the  rounds  of  the  solar  skies,  while  it  fulfils  its  term 
of  fourscore  years  and  more.  The  sun  has  now  shrunk 
almost  to  a  comparison  with  the  stars  ;  or  looks  like  the 
chiefest  and  most  resplendent  of  them  :  so  that  the  mild 
twilight  of  that  noon  does  not  quite  exclude  their  rival 
radiance. 

Here  indeed  the  power  of  distant  conception  of  space 
and  distance  falters.  But  if  we  remain  awhile  at  the  re- 
mote stage  we  have  reached,  and  pass  along  the  circuit  of 
that  farthest  planet  of  the  solar  system,  we  may  gain,  ob- 
scurely, an  idea  of  the  solitariness  of  our  system,  in  the 
starry  heavens.  It  is  possible  that  the  diameter  of  that 
orbit,  which  is  scarcely  traversed  within  the  longest  term 
of  human  life,  affords  just  a  sensible  parallax,  for  the  meas- 
urement of  the  distances  of  the  nearest  stars,  so  that  an  in- 
telligible means  is  afforded  for  computing  the  breadth  of  that 
fearful  gulf  which  divides  the  sun  and  his  planets  from  the 
coasts  of  other  systems.  Thus,  instead  of  the  ignorance 
or  uncertain  conjectures  which  here  on  earth  oblige  us  to 
rest  satisfied  (or  dissatisfied)  with  a  vague  conception  of 
the  distance  of  system  from  system,  there,  in  that  Georgian 
planet,  perhaps  the  astounding  reality  is  reduced  to  figures  ; 
and  it  is  authentically  shown  that  this  outer  circle  of  our 
system,  vast  as  it  is,  circumscribes  a  space  that  would  not 
be  discernible  otherwise  than  as  a  point,  from  even  the 
nearest  of  the  neighbouring  stars  :  so  that  though  our  sun 
would  be  seen  thence,  as  those  stars  are  seen  by  us,  the 
apparent  disk  of  its  little  sparkling  light  would  include  sun 
and  planets  together,  as  one  blended  radiance.  It  is  thus, 
where  facts  are  greater  far  than  imagination,  that  in  pro- 
portion as  we  ascertain  those  facts,  or  exchange  imagina- 


VASTNESS  OP  THE  MATERIAL  UNIVERSE.          149 

lion  for  knowledge,  the  mind  is  so  much  the  more  filled 
with  amazement  or  awe. 

From  the  extreme  boundary  of  the  solar  system, 
could  we  gain  that  outpost  of  observation,  we  should 
look  with  more  distinctness  of  perception  into  the  abyss, 
in  the  centre  of  which  the  sun,  with  his  planets,  is  .sus- 
pended. And  there,  it  is  probable,  a  much  brighter  lustre 
may  shed  itself  from  the  starry  heavens,  and  perhaps,  (yes 
it  must  be  believed,)  innumerable  stars,  which  from  earth 
are  not  at  all  perceptible,  or  discerned  only  by  the  highest 
powers  of  art,  are  individually  seen  :  and  those  luminous 
streams  too,  and  many  nebulous  splendours,  which  hang 
as  wreaths  or  folded  curtains  of  light,  across  our  skies, 
show  themselves  to  be — what  they  are — crowded  hosts  of 
worlds,  thick  and  numberless  as  the  sparks  that  rush  up 
from  a  fiercely  blown  furnace.  Perhaps,  at  the  verge  of 
our  system,  the  hours  of  day  may  seem  dull  and  sombre  ; 
while  the  night  flames  out  with  a  radiance  that  darts  from 
every  span  and  interstice  of  the  sky,  like  the  fretted  roof 
of  a  palace  which  the  ostentation  of  the  artist  has  overload- 
ed with  sparkling  ornaments  of  gold.  Nay,  sober  truth 
and  calculation  oblige  us  to  believe  that,  if  we  could  reach 
a  spot  nearer  to  the  confines  of  the  more  densely  occupied 
fields  of  space,  and  be  exempted  from  all  atmospheric  ob- 
scurations, the  entire  surface  of  heaven  would  seem  to  be 
evenly  and  thickly  studded  with  the  stellar  glory,  in  its 
many  gradations  of  magnitude ;  for  though  the  nearer 
suns  would  appear  distant,  one  from  the  other,  the  spaces 
between  would  be  filled  up  by  those  more  remote ;  and 
these  again  by  the  still  more  distant,  until  nothing  were 
discerned  but  luminous  ether  ; — and  yet  this  ether  is 
luminous  only  by  its  innumerable  suns  ! 

After  the  mind  has  lost  itself,  and  become  fatigued  by 
14* 


150  SATURDAY"  EVENING. 

the  labour  of  attempting  to  traverse  the  distances  of  the 
visible  universe,  it  may  return  (not  for  rest  but  for  change) 
to  the  still  more  astounding  conception  of  the  numbers  of 
the  heavenly  bodies.  The  telescope  has  put  these  num- 
bers quite  beyond  calculations  :  and  then  it  fails  to  give 
any  account  of  the  many  luminous  lustres  that  bedeck  the 
sky  ;  much  less  of  the  spaces  that  may  be  not  less  replete 
with  creation,  on  all  sides  beyond  the  passage  of  light. 
And  these  numbers,  could  they  be  actually  expressed,  must 
be  multiplied — who  shall  say  how  often,  to  include  the 
bodies,  not  natively  luminous,  that  are  circulating  around 
each  sun.  Our  own  system,  it  is  conjectured,  may  com- 
prise many  planets,  either  too  diminutive,  or  too  obscure 
(from  the  quality  of  their  elements)  to  be  discerned  at  all 
from  the  earth.  The  invisible  material  creation,  therefore, 
it  is  probable,  vastly  outnumbers  the  visible  ;  and  it  may 
justly  be  thought  that  the  worlds  made  known  to  us  by 
their  inherent  splendour,  are,  to  the  unseen,  only  in  the 
proportion  of  the  chiefs  of  an  army  to  the  thousands  that 
fill  rank  and  file  : — it  is  as  if  from  the  summit  of  a  tower 
we  were  looking,  by  night,  upon  a  boundless  plain,  filled 
with  the  array  of  war  ;  and  could  discern  nothing  but  the 
gemmed  crests  of  the  captains,  gleaming,  amid  the  count- 
less and  unseen  multitudes  they  arc  leading  on. 

A  metaphysical  necessity  compels  us  to  deny  absolute 
infinity  to  matter  :  and  for  the  saving  of  the  first  princi- 
ples of  theology,  we  affirm  that  creation  has  its  limits. 
But  who  shall  say  when,  and  where,  this  abstract  neces- 
ity  begins  to  take  effect  ?  A  problem  like  this  we  must 
leave  untouched  ;  meanwhile  the  whole  evidence  of  sight, 
and  of  science,  tends  to  render  it  a  probable  supposition, 
that  that  sphere  of  the  universe  which  the  velocity  of  light 
brings  within  our  knowledge  is  a  small  portion  of  the 


VASTNESS  OF  THE  MATERIAL  UNIVERSE.          151 

whole ;  and  that  the  verge  of  this  visible  sphere  is  the 
verge  of  another  beyond  it,  or  embracing  it ;  and  that 
again  of  another.  Nothing  in  such  suppositions,  let  them 
be  extended  as  they  may,  can  be  deemed  incredible  or  ex- 
travagant, while  the  inconceivable  truth  stands  always 
before  us  of  the  distances  and  numbers  of  the  worlds  that 
are  actually  visible.  The  demonstrated  wonders  of  astron- 
omy deprive  us  of  the  right  to  affirm  that  any  supposition 
concerning  the  greatness  of  the  works  of  God  is  too  vast 
to  be  admitted. 

What  then  is  the  just  and  unexceptionable  sentiment 
which  should  come  home  to  the  heart  after  a  contempla- 
tion of  the  inconceivable  extent  of  the  Creation  ?  Not,  as 
we  have  said,  this — That  man  and  his  welfare  are  unim- 
portant. The  very  multiplicity  of  worlds,  instead  of 
favouring  such  a  conclusion,  refutes  it,  by  showing  that  the 
Creator  prefers,  as  the  field  of  his  cares  and  beneficence, 
limited  and  separate  portions  of  matter,  rather  than 
immense  masses  : — it  is  manifest  that  the  omnipotent 
Wisdom  and  POWER  loves  to  divide  itself  upon  the  indi- 
viduality of  its  works. 

But  if  we  must  not  indulge  this  feeling,  the  tendency 
of  which  is  to  quash  every  aspiring  thought,  and  to  reduce 
us  from  the  rank  we  hold  to  the  level  of  the  brute  ;  our 
alternative  is  another,  which,  without  checking  any  noble 
emotion,  at  once  imposes  a  restraint  upon  presumption,  and 
leads  us  to  estimate  more  highly  the  consequences  of  our 
present  course.  Whether  then  it  be  positively  affirmed 
that  man,  in  virtue  of  his  moral  constitution,  stands  rela- 
ted to  all  other  parts  of  the  moral  system  ;  or  it  be  only 
admitted  as  possible,  that  he  is  so  related,  it  must  equally 
be  felt — That  to  exist  at  all  as  a  member  of  so  vast  an 
assemblage  of  beings,  to  occupy  a  fooling  in  the  universe, 


152  SATURDAY   EVENING. 

such  as  it  is,  involves  incalculable  probabilities  of  future 
good  or  ill.  And  then  our  argument  is  briefly  this ; — The 
material  system,  so  far  as  it  is  open  to  our  knowledge, 
surpasses  all  power  of  conception.  Yet  this  immensity  is 
but  the  immensity  of  matter ;  and  we  know  by  conscious- 
ness of  an  order  of  existence  incomparably  more  excellent 
than  matter,  even  in  its  most  admirable  combinations.  Is 
it  not  probable  therefore,  not  only  that  this  higher  order 
of  existence  actually  spreads  itself  over  the  entire  surface 
of  the  material  system  ;  but  that  it  is  developing  itself  in 
some  manner  proportionate  to  its  intrinsic  superiority  and 
dignity  ?  Is  it  not  probable  that  events  in  the  universe  of 
mind  are  moving  on — that  fortunes  are  rising  and  falling 
— that  destinies  are  bursting  forth,  blossoming  and  bear- 
ing fruit,  which,  when  known,  shall  make  the  material 
frame-work  of  nature  to  appear  (great  as  it  is)  nothing 
more  than  a  stage  for  their  accomplishment  and  display  ? 

Sober  reason,  in  looking  abroad  upon  space  and  matter, 
will  surely  believe  that  this  universe  of  solid  and  lumi- 
nous globes  does  not  stand  merely  for  itself;  but  rather 
that  it  is  the  inert  means  of  a  higher  end  ;  and  moreover, 
that  this  end,  or  ultimate  purpose,  must  transcend  im- 
mensely the  means.  Although  therefore  we  have  ocular 
demonstration  only  of  that  which  is  material,  we  have 
rational  demonstration  of  far  more  than  that ;  and  we 
may  well  conjecture  that,  if  the  immaterial  or  intellectual 
universe,  with  its  destinies,  were  laid  open,  the  material 
would  shrink  and  fade,  and  scarcely  again  claim  our  no- 
tice. 

We  have  only  to  add  to  this  reasonable  supposition  the 
belief  of  immortality  ;  or  of  ENDLESS  EXISTENCE,  in  the 
most  absolute  sense  of  the  words  ;  and  having  placed  in 
combination  ideas  so  vast,  it  may  be  inquired  whether  the 


VASTNESS  OF  THE  MATERIAL  UNIVERSE!  153 

rules  or  principles  upon  which  a  machine  so  stupendous 
as  the  material  and  intellectual  universe,  can  be  supposed 
to  fall  within  our  knowledge ;  or  to  lie  in  the  compass  of 
our  minds  ? — In  other  words,  whether  our  actual  qualifi- 
cations for  judging  of  the  destinies  of  our  own  species,  or 
of  the  procedures  of  the  Divine  government,  are  in  any 
degree  commensurate  with  the  magnitude  of  the  subject? 

Every  reflecting  mind  entertains  at  times  difficulties, 
concerning  the  condition  and  destinies  of  man,  which  all 
the  ingenuity  of  philosophy  fails  to  solve.  To  avoid  the 
stress  of  such  perplexities,  on  the  one  side,  we  are  fain  to 
shift  our  ground  ;  but  find  that,  though  we  have  changed 
the  position  of  our  burden,  we  have  not  at  all  lessened  its 
weight.  We  run  for  relief,  perhaps,  to  scepticism,  and 
some  run  to  atheism.  But  greater  and  more  formidable 
doubts  meet  us  there  ;  and  forbid  our  progress.  Revela- 
tion grapples  not  with  any  such  antagonists  ;  but  it  speaks 
in  a  tone  firm  and  calm,  which  implies  that  they  are,  or 
that  they  may  be,  readily  disposed  of.  Now  we  need 
wish,  if  rightly  minded,  for  nothing  more  (when  once 
convinced  that  the  Bible  is  from  God)  than  to  rest  quietly 
upon  its  implicit  disregard  of  the  doubts  which  so  much 
disturb  our  peace.  For  we  may  very  safely  infer  from 
the  manifest  ease  and  tranquillity  of  the  messengers  of 
heaven  that  all  is  well,  if  looked  upon  from  a  point  suffi- 
ciently high.  Just  as  when  a  father,  stationed  on  an 
eminence,  is  watching  the  progress  of  his  sons  through  a 
labyrinth,  they  may  confidently  presume  that  their  course 
is  the  right  one,  so  long  as  they  see  that  a  cheerful  smile 
is  on  his  face. 

This  kind  of  humble  acquiescence  is,  we  say  both  safe 
and  reasonable.  But  let  it  be  granted  that  it  is  lawful 
to  seek  some  independent  confirmations  of  our  passive 


154  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

faith.  Then  surely  we  may  find  what  we  need,  as 
often  as  we  look  to  the  starry  heavens.  And  is  there 
indeed  no  motive  of  modesty — is  there  no  reason  for  sus- 
pension of  judgment— is  there  no  awe  justly  to  be  derived 
from  the  spectacle  of  the  universe  ?  Must  not  even  the 
most  audacious  mind  confess  a  reverence  while  standing 
thus  in  the  open  presence  of  all  worlds?  Or  let  the 
scenery  be  somewhat  changed,  and  instead  of  seeing,  at 
a  distance,  these  innumerable  habitations,  let  us  imagine 
that  all  the  rational  orders  that  fill  them  (not  a  race 
excepted)  were,  by  a  sovereign  summons,  gathered  from 
their  several  homes,  and  brought  down  to  fill  our  nearer 
skies,  and  to  come  (were  that  conceivable)  within  a  circle 
to  which  articulate  sounds  might  reach.  Who  is  there 
then  that,  in  the  presence  and  hearing  of  such  an  assembly, 
would  choose  to  utter  aloud  the  petulance  and  the  impiety 
of  his  secret  meditations  1  Who  would  not  be  conscious 
that  those  complaints  against  the  principles  of  universal 
government  which  he  harbours  while  actually  acquainted 
with  only  some  few  of  its  acts,  must,  if  uttered,  bring  upon 
himself  the  just  resentment  and  scorn  of  all  ?  But  what- 
ever it  is  that  we  should  not  have  courage  to  utter  in 
presence  of  the  assembled  rational  universe,  we  ought  to 
expel  from  the  concealed  recesses  of  our  hearts.  For  it  is 
an  absurd  presumption  even  to  think  that,  which  we 
ourselves  feel  it  to  be  both  presumptous  and  absurd  to  utter 
aloud.  The  reason  of  the  modesty  demanded  of  us  re- 
mains always  the  same  ;  and  it  is  this — That  we  are 
members  of  a  government  which  extends  over  a  surface 
inconceivably  greater  than  any  finite  mind  can  measure, 
and  of  which  we  are  acquainted  only  with  a  single  spot. 


XII. 
PIETY  AND  ENERGY, 

"  Add  to  -your  Faith  virtue.'1 


ALMOST  every  excellence  in  the  science  of  morals  hag 
been  attained  by  sages — except  completeness  and  consis- 
tency :  the  completeness  and  consistency  of  its  morality  is 
the  peculiar  praise  of  the  ethics  which  the  Bible  has  taught. 
Often,  if  we  might  so  speak,  the  strength  and  the  materials 
of  six  parts  of  morality  have  been  brought  together,  where- 
with to  construct  a  seventh  part ;  so  much  of  magnificence 
and  elevation  has,  by  this  means,  been  obtained  for  the 
single  virtue,  whether  it  were  fortitude,  courage,  patriotism, 
or  beneficence,  that  mankind,  in  their  admiration,  have 
forgotten  the  cost  at  which  it  has  been  produced. 

The  morality  of  the  Bible  excepted,  there  has  never 
appeared  an  ethical  system — oriental  or  western,  which 
might  not  fairly  be  described  as  a  splendid  enormity — or 
a  glittering  fragment,  which  owed  all  its  value  to  the 
spoilation  of  some  spurned  and  forgotten  qualities.  What- 
ever energy  has  been  gained  on  the  one  part, will  be  found  to 
have  been  deducted  from  another  :  or  if  the  man  formed 
on  these  models  is  examined,  the  eminence  he  displays  in 
a  single  line  of  action,  impoverishes  or  enfeebles  other  of 
his  moral  powers. 

Every  one  who  is  conversant  with  history  will  readily 
call  to  mind  abundant  illustrations  of  our  meaning.  The 
ancient  world  often  enough  displayed  (and  in  some  ins- 
tances which  justly  demand  admiration)  a  stern  subjugation 


166  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

of  the  animal  appetites :  or  an  arrogant  fortitude ;  or  a 
proud  public  virtue ;  or  an  ambitious  patriotism ;  or  a 
bland  and  gay,  but  dissolute  humanity,  and  a  voluptuous 
elegance.  Or  after  that  Christianity  had  exploded  the 
philosophic  and  polytheistic  virtues,  and  had  imparted  the 
power  and  solemnity  of  the  future  life  to  ethics,  mankind 
were  called  upon  to  admire  a  new  order  of  extravagance 
in  morals,  while  saints  and  anchorets,  instead  of  heroes, 
sages,  and  statesmen,  ran  the  course  of  glory.  Meanwhile 
the  completeness  and  consistency  of  true  virtue,  as  taught 
by  the  Apostles,  was  wholly  lost  sight  of. 

Our  own  times,  though  it  be  after  a  new  model,  have 
shown  us  notable  examples  of  the  brilliancy  and  vigour 
that  may  belong  to  partial  systems  of  piety  and  morals  ; 
and  we  have  now  as  great  need  as  ever,  to  revert  to  the 
source — the  only  source  of  a  consistent  morality.  The 
absolute  symmetry,  the  exact  counterpoise  of  parts,  in  the 
apostolic  ethics,  is  sometimes  conspicuous,  and  sometimes 
occult.  In  one  passage  it  must  insure  the  notice  of  the 
least  observant  reader :  in  others  it  may  demand,  for  its 
full  exhibition,  a  reference  to  the  deep-seated  principles  of 
human  nature.  But  there  are  no  instances  more  remark- 
able than  those  in  which  the  admonitions  or  dehortations 
of  Scripture  are  not  to  be  understood  in  their  specific  pro- 
priety, until  we  have  looked  through  the  page  of  chinch 
history,  and  have  found  occasions  which  seem  to  have 
been  vividly  in  the  prospect  of  the  inspired  writers  when 
selecting  their  emphatic  phrases.  There  are,  we  say,  cer- 
tain ethical  portions  of  the  Scripture,  which  must  be  grant- 
ed to  have  in  them  much  of  the  prophetical  quality ;  and 
to  which  we  have  not  done  critical  justice  until  we  have 
shown,  by  the  aid  of  history,  their  signal  adaptation  to  the 
evils  that,  at  different  eras,  have  prevailed  in  the  church. 


PIETY  AND  ENERGY.  157 

It  must  be  acknowledged  that  the  Gospel,  while  by  its 
direct  agency  it  has  elevated  and  purified  the  morality 'of 
mankind,  has  also,  as  an  oblique  cause,  generated,  or 
brought  into  activity  some  peculiar  forms  of  evil.  This 
could  not  but  happen.  Christianity  (corrupted  and  debas- 
ed) has  had  its  specific  vices,  as  well  as  produced  unexam- 
pled virtues.  But  what  human  sagacity,  could  be  sufficient, 
while  the  system  was  yet  in  its  infancy,  and  long  before  it 
had  collapsed  upon  itself,  or  had  come  into  contact  with 
foreign  influences,  to  forecast  these  distant  and  accidental 
novelties  of  sentiment  and  behaviour  ?  Truly  the  pene- 
tration of  men  reaches  not  nearly  so  far  ;  arid  when,  on 
the  pages  of  writers  so  inartificial,  so  devoid  of  the  keen- 
ness and  comprehension  of  the  philosophical  spirit,  as 
were  PETER,  JAMES,  and  JOHN,  we  find  special  provi- 
sions against  abuses  that  were  not  at  all  developed  till 
later  ages,  we  must,  in  all  candour,  confess,  that,  though 
the  phrases  and  the  style  are  those  of  men,  the  latent  in- 
tention, and  the  foreknowledge,  must  have  been  from 
God. 

The  epistles  of  Peter  eminently  exhibit  that  sort  of 
ostensible  consistency  of  moral  precepts,  which  even  the 
most  ordinary  understanding  perceives,  and  admires. 
Moreover  this  writer  shows  himself  to  be  master  of  that 
practical  harmony  of  principles  which,  on  difficult  occa- 
sions, and  under  peculiar  excitements,  adheres  to  the  nice 
line  of  moderation,  humility,  and  firmness.  Of  this  kind 
are  those  passages  wherein  he  guides  the  conduct  and 
feelings  of  Christians  when  suffering  under  persecution. 
Nothing  more  admirable  than  these  precepts  of  meekness 
and  constancy  is  any  where  to  be  found  : — nothing  so 
great  had  been  seen  in  the  world  before  Christ  imparted  to 
his  disciples  the  elements  of  true  magnanimity. 
15 


158  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

But  this  is  not  all : — these  epistles  contain  in  their  ethical 
portions  some  extraordinary  instances  of  the  kind  just 
above  alluded  to,  wherein  a  knowledge  of  the  workings 
of  human  nature,  much  more  profound  than  the  writer 
would  seem  natively  to  be  master  of,  is  conjoined  with 
what  one  is  fain  to  think  a  prospective  caution,  directed 
against  the  corruptions  of  after  Christianity.  The  exordi- 
al paragraph  of  the  second  epistle  affords  a  signal  example 
of  this,  more  than  human  skill  and  foresight.  We  ven- 
ture to  affirm  that  this  passage  is  fraught,  at  once,  with 
philosophical  justness  of  classification,  and  with  prophetic 
•  truth. 

It  were  surely  a  rude  style  of  exposition  to  regard  the 
catalogue  of  virtues,  now  before  us,  as  merely  a  vague 
and  fortuitous  series  of  moral  qualities,  each  of  which, 
though  singly  important,  is  not  specifically  linked  to  its 
neighbour,  and  does  not  derive  any  definite  significance 
from  its  location  in  the  list.  So  clumsy  a  supposition 
may  perhaps  be  favoured  by  the  looseness  of  our  English 
translation  ;  but  in  turning  to  the  language  of  the  Apostle, 
far  more  of  meaning  is  clearly  conveyed,  than  such  a 
supposition  takes  account  of. 

In  order  to  dismiss  the  frigid  interpretation  to  which  our 
ears  have  been  accustomed,  and  to  convey  the  full  sense 
of  the  apostolic  language,  it  is  necessary  to  resort  to  a 
paraphrase  of  the  passage.  "  Divinely  endowed,"  says 
the  Apostle,  "  with  whatever  is  important  to  (spiritual)  life 
and  piety  ;  enriched  also  with  those  inestimable  promises 
which  insure  to  us  a  participation  in  the  Divine  Nature — 
a  participation  we  derive  from  our  acquaintance  with  Him 
who  has  challenged  us  to  so  high  a  glory ;  and  having, 
by  the  same  means,  gained  freedom  from  the  defilement 
of  mundane  passions,  my  brethren,  take  heed  (that  you 


PIETY  AND  ENERGY.  159 

beseem  yourselves  worthily  of  your  vocation) — using  the 
utmost  assiduity  (in  the  pursuit  of  Christian  excellence)— 
see  that  your  faith  (in  these  promises)  is  always  associated 
with  manly  energy  or  (vigour) — (that  your  faith  be  not 
pusillanimous) — and  then,  that  your  courage  (virtue)  be 
duly  informed  by  evangelical  principles  (knowledge). 
Again,  take  heed  that  your  knowledge  (of  the  Gospel)  be 
not  abused  to  licentiousness :  but  rather  be  united  with 
self-command  and  temperance.  Nor  must  this  control  of 
the  appetites  spring  from  a  haughty  and  fanatical  temper, 
but  must  consist  with  humility  and  submission.  Yet  let 
your  humility  be  religious  (not  stoical).  Then  remember 
that  your  piety  is  not  to  be  unsocial  (or  anchoretic)  but 
fraught  with  brotherly  affection  ;  and  lastly,  that  your 
affection  towards  your  fellow-christians  is  not  to  be 
sectarian,  but  expansive,  and  that  it  is  to  spring  from  the 
principle  of  universal  love."* 


*  The  precise  value  of  the  principal  terms  employed  in  this  re- 
markable passage  it  is  important  to  understand :  our  English  ver- 
sion is  here  less  happy  and  exact  than  usual. — Sirou^v  iraaav  vapeiatv 
iynavTts,  /ffi^op^yij<rar« ....  these  compounds  fully  carry  the  sense  of 
bringing  together,  or  into  combination  and  correspondence,  the 
several  virtues  enumerated.  It  is  not  merely  an  adding  one  to  the 
other,  as  unconnected  items  ;  commixture  of  one  ingredient  with 
some  other  that  is  specifically  necessary  lor  the  production  of  the 
desired  result.  The  phraseology  would  be  proper  if  the  articles  to 
be  brought  together  were  remedies,  the  effect  of  which  depended 
upon  their  due  combination.  'E»  Tfj  rfom  Ipuv  rty  Aptrriv  ....  with 
this  faith  of  yours,  admix  the  constancy  and  courage  of  manly 
vigour:  dpErij  has  this  specific  sense.  'H  yi/5o-ij  is  neither  human 
erudition,  nor  general  intelligence ;  but  that  specific  knowledge  of 
which  the  Gospel  is  the  subject.  'Ey<rp<fr«a  is  not  moderation  in 
eating  and  drinking  merely ;  but  sell- command,  or  command  over  the 
appetites.  'Yiro^oi/^,  as  used  by  the  writers  of  the  New  Testament, 
might  be  rendered  by  the  word  submissiveness  ;  or  is  the  patience 


160  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

This  passage  then,  if  not  unfairly  paraphrased,  and  if 
its  ellipses  are  truly  supplied,  resolves  itself  into  an  ethical 
canon,  in  three  parts,  of  which  the  first  enjoins  the  due 
connexion  of  a  religious  reliance  upon  the  Divine  prom- 
ises, with  energy  of  character ; — an  energy  that  is  not  to 
be  secular,  but  evangelical.  The  second  describes  genuine 
personal  virtue,  or  continence,  as  related,  on  the  one  hand, 
to  the  principles  whence  it  should  spring ;  and  on  the 
other,  to  the  temper  that  should  attend  it.  The  third 
lays  down  the  twofold  rule  of  social  piety. 

Or  we  might  well  seek  our  illustration  of  the  apostolic 
injunction  by  taking  a  view,  at  large,  of  church  history  ; 
and  then  we  shall  find,  beneath  the  significant  phraseology 
of  the  passage,  a  condensed  but  comprehensive  caution 
against  each  of  those  prominent  corruptions  that  have 
developed  themselves  in  the  course  of  eighteen  centuries. 
They  are  readily  enumerated,  and  may  be  thus  designat- 
ed : —  1st,  pusillanimous  or  inert  faith  :  2d,  the  licentious 
abuse  of  the  Gospel ;  3d,  a  fanatical  or  haughty  subjuga- 
tion of  animal  desires  ;  4th,  anchoretic  pietism  ;  and  5th, 
sectarian  or  factious  sociality.  Thus  our  apostolic  canon 
is  seen  to  hold  up,  as  in  a  mirror,  the  history  of  the  de- 
generate Christianity  of  all  ages. 

We  may  take  the  numbers  of  this  canon  in  their 
order  ;  and  at  present  consider  that  which  relates  to  the 
due  combination  of  faith  and  manly  energy. 

There  is  manifestly  something  which  requires  to  be 


of  humility.  EW/3«a,  piety.  QtiaSAfta  is  the  species ;  Aydmi  the 
genus— This  is  the  principle ;  that,  the  special  exercise  of  it:  and 
the  caution  of  the  Apostle  is  directed  against  such  an  affection  for 
the  brotherhood  as  does  not  spring  from  a  genuine  and  universal 
love.  For  the  sense  of  the  verb  itrixopvytu,  see  verse  1 1. 


PIETY  AND  ENERGY.  161 

balanced  or  adjusted,  and  kept  in  equipoise,  between  the 
principle  of  faith,  and  the  principle  of  action.  The  one 
has  a  tendency  to  exclude  the  other ;  or  to  overpower  it. 
But  Christian  excellence  consists  in  the  preservation  of 
this  balance  ;  and  the  preservation  of  it,  we  must  add, 
greatly  depends  upon  the  circumstances  of  the  times. — 
Now  perhaps,  for  a  season,  faith  and  energy  are  both 
strongly  stimulated ;  and  the  highest  style  of  Christian 
heroism  is  reached.  Again,  the  inducements  of  action 
being  slackened,  faith  is  deprived  of  the  invigoration  it 
had  received  from  the  contest  with  its  antagonist  principle  ; 
it  triumphs,  or  rather  seems  to  triumph,  for  a  moment ; 
but  presently  becomes  extravagant ;  than  imbecile ;  and 
at  length  utterly  inert.  We  need  not  be  surprised  to  find 
that  Faith,  though  heaven-born,  can  neither  live  nor  be 
productive  alone.  Excellence  of  all  kinds,  physical,  intel- 
lectual, and  spiritual,  is  the  product,  not  of  the  single 
operation  of  some  one  principle ;  but  of  the  oppugnant 
forces  of  two  or  more  powers,  which  have  a  natural  Jit- 
ness  to  counteract  each  other.  And  the  higher  we  look 
in  the  scale  of  being  and  action,  so  much  the  more  shall 
we  find  this  principle  holding  good  ;  and  shall  perceive 
that  exalted  and  resplendent  qualities  have  always  become 
what  they  are,  by  the  vehement  interaction  of  conflicting 
elements. 

The  faith  of  the  primitive  age  owed  its  vigour,  not  mere- 
ly to  the  miraculous  attestations  that  then  abounded;  nor 
to  the  personal  teaching  of  apostles — the  men  who  had 
themselves  "  seen  the  Lord  ;"  nor  merely  to  the  plenitude 
of  that  heavenly  influence  which  then  so  largely  descend- 
ed upon  the  church  ;  but  in  an  equal  degree  to  the  perils 
and  pains  of  the  time — to  the  agitations,  and  heavy  storms. 
of  trouble,  which  beat  upon  the  infant  religion.  That 

15* 


162  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

vivid  conviction  of  the  reality  of  things  unseen  which  the 
first  Christians  enjoyed,  might  naturally  have  abstracted 
them  altogether  from  mundane  interests,  and  have  led 
them  forth,  heavenward,  in  holy  contempt  of  whatever 
belonged  to  the  insignificance  of  their  mortal  course.  But 
this  supremacy  of  the  powers  of  immortality,  if  unbalanc- 
ed, must  soon  (calculating  on  the  constant  principles  of 
human  nature)  have  wrought  its  own  decay  and  corrup- 
tion ;  and  Christianity  would  quickly  have  seemed  no- 
thing better  than  a  madness  or  a  folly.  The  persecutions 
of  the  first  age  constituted  the  counteractive  power,  which 
gave  consistency  and  reason  to  so  lively  a  faith.  Chris- 
tians were  daily  brought  upon  a  path  of  danger  which 
made  them  as  much  men  of  action — of  promptitude,  and 
of  courage,  as  they  were  men  of  meditation.  While  more 
than  any  others  they  lived  in  correspondence  with  things 
'« unseen  and  eternal,"  more  than  any  others  also,  they 
wrestled  with  things  earthly ; — being  embarrassed  amid 
common  cares,  exhausted  by  hunger,  thirst,  and  toil ;  dis- 
tracted by  fears  ;  and  often  actually  engaged  in  encoun- 
tering the  anguish  of  cruel  deaths.  Thus  were  they 
compelled,  by  the  position  they  occupied,  to  mingle  with 
"  their  faith,  virtue." 

It  might  be  matter  of  question  whether  the  laws  of  the 
human  mind  at  all  admit  of  a  high  degree  of  force  being 
imparted  to  the  principle  of  faith  (consistently  with  the 
soundness  and  vigour  of  the  character)  in  any  manner 
essentially  different  from  that  of  a  strenuous  conflict,  such 
as  the  first  Christians  were  exposed  to.  We  may  per- 
haps hereafter  entertain  a  conjecture  on  this  subject: 
meanwhile  it  must  be  confessed,  that  the  history  of  the 
church  exhibits  frequent  examples  of  the  natural  process 
which  takes  place  when  Faith,  being  released  from  the 


PIETY  AND  ENERGY.  163 

grasp  of  its  antagonist,  becomes,  first  preposterous ;  then 
childish  ;  and  ere  long  expires  in  the  arms,  either  of  su- 
perstition or  of  sensuality. 

Secular  men  can  scarcely  at  all  conceive  of  the  great 
power  of  those  motives  that  are  drawn  from  the  objects  of 
religious  belief.  As  the  most  amazing  of  all  infatuations 
is  that  which  blinds  man  to  his  own  immortality  ;  so  the 
greatest  of  all  revulsions  is  that  which  takes  place  when 
this  infatuation  is  dispelled.  Can  it  be  called  any  thing 
less  than  "  a  new  birth"  when  the  being  who  yesterday 
was  the  creature  of  momentary  interests,  becomes  to-day 
the  claimant  of  an  endless  existence — the  inheritor  of  ab- 
solute happiness,  and  an  associate  of  the  Infinite  Majesty  ? 
The  power  of  meditation,  apart  from  piety  may  indeed,  on 
the  boundless  field  of  these  hopes,  take  its  course  at  large. 
But  the  faith  of  Christianity  is  something  far  more  viva- 
cious than  any  mere  ravishment  of  the  imagination  can  ever 
be.  It  is  not  so  much  the  idea  of  eternity  that  constitutes 
the  difference  between  the  secular  and  the  spiritual  man  • 
but  rather  the  consciousness  and  the  sensitiveness  that  are 
proper  to  the  moral  life.  It  is  not  a  vivid  conception  of  the 
awful  greatness  of  God  that  makes  the  Christian  what  he 
is;  but  the  apprehension  (an  apprehension  that  has  no 
alliance  with  the  imagination)  of  the  absolute  purity,  jus- 
tice, and  goodness  of  the  Divine  Being.  It  is  the  entrance 
of  these  notions  that  quickens  the  soul ;  it  is  in  their  vivid- 
ness that  the  life  of  the  soul  consists ;  and  the  faith  of 
Christianity,  far  from  revelling  in  gorgeous  conceptions  of 
the  heavenly  splendour  and  immortal  pleasure,  is  a  sense 
(attended  with  weeping  and  joy)  of  GOOD  and  EVIL,  and 
of  personal  implication  in  the  one,  and  participation  of  the 
other. 

Nor  does  this  faith  want  its  definite  excitements  :  it  is 


164  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

neither  a  mere  phantasy  of  future  glory,  nor  a  vague 
ebullition  of  feeling.  The  mysteries  of  the  redemption 
effected  by  the  Son  of  God  concentrate  the  emotions  of  fear 
and  hope,  of  compunction  and  gratitude,  of  joy  and  sor- 
row, upon  distinct  objects.  The  "  Mediator  between  God 
and  man" — his  personal  qualities,  his  acts,  his  purposes, 
his  affection  to  his  people,  and  the  future  exertion  of  his 
power  and  grace  on  their  behalf,  are  so  many  special 
sources  of  emotion,  and  combine  to  render — Faith  in  the 
Gospel, — a  congeries  of  various  sentiments,  that  may  well 
occupy  every  faculty  of  the  intellectual  and  moral  nature. 

Yet  this  is  not  all :  for  the  elementary  principle  of  Faith 
receives  an  enrichment,  a  diversity  of  colour,  and  an  in- 
dividual form,  from  its  combination  with  the  peculiarities 
of  the  mind  wherein  it  lodges.  Shall  \ve  say,  that  as, 
when  the  pure  splendour  of  the  sun  falls  upon  the  unequal 
prism  of  crystal,  it  undergoes  decomposition,  and  while 
losing  a  portion  of  its  intensity,  yet  throws  off  its  severed 
elements  of  beauty — its  seven  colours,  that  diversify  all  the 
face  of  nature  ;  so,  when  the  brightness  of  the  Divine 
glory,  and  the  unsullied  beams  of  eternal  life,  come  in  upon 
the  soul,  and  are  there  imbibed,  the  finite  substance,  with 
its  limitations  of  faculty,  its  personal  figure,  its  individual 
constitution,  imparts  diversity  to  the  celestial  element,  and 
gives  birth  to  new  and  special  forms  of  emotion.  It  i^  at 
least  certain  that  the  faith  of  each  Christian  is  a  faith 
which  is  specifically  his  own,  and  takes  up,  as  adjunctive 
qualities,  whatever  is  peculiar  to  the  personal  character, 
and  whatever  has  sprung  from  its  particular  history. 
Thus  at  once  from  its  objects,  and  its  subject,  does  Faith 
derive  a  copiousness  that  serves  to  occupy  and  animate 
the  soul. 

Nevertheless  it  is  a  truth  which  all  experience  confirms, 


PIETY  AND  ENERGY.  165 

that  the  human  mind  cannot  with  impunity  surrender  it- 
self to  the  constant  domination  of  any  one  class  of  emo- 
tions, even  of  the  calmest  and  the  purest  kind.  The 
perpeti  ity  of  a  single  emotion  is  insanity ; — whether  mild 
or  turbulent,  melancholic  or  impetuous  ;  and  it  may  safely 
be  affirmed  that  human  nature  must  be  dissolved  to  its 
elements,  and  reconstructed  on  a  different  model,  before  it 
can  either  suffer  the  wretchedness  of  incessant  passion,  or 
inherit  the  bliss  of  perpetual  love  and  joy.  The  Divine 
providence  speaks  this  truth  aloud  by  the  ordinary  course 
of  its  dispensations  ;  and  indeed  by  the  entire  construction 
of  the  social  system  ; — an  hour  only  is  indulged  to  con- 
templation ; — the  day  is  demanded  by  care  and  toil. 

There  are  two  notable  and  ordinary  results  of  that  state 
of  things  which  prevails  in  tranquil  times,  when  Faith, 
deprived  of  the  invigorating  influence  of  a  strenuous  con- 
flict with  antagonist  forces,  takes  its  residence  indolently 
in  the  heart  of  the  Christian.  The  first,  is  its  transmuta- 
tion into  pusillanimous  sentiment.  The  second,  is  its 
gradual  expulsion  by  principles  of  secular  action.  A  period 
like  that  in  which  we  live,  naturally  abounds  with  in- 
stances of  both  kinds  ;  and  a  brief  consideration  of  both 
may  well  occupy  a  few  moments  of  our  attention. 

The  unsearchable — the  incomprehensible  skill  of  the 
Divine  administration  of  human  affairs  is  shown  in  the 
perfect  adaptation  of  causes  belonging  entirely  to  the 
permanent  constitution  of  nature  (nature,  material  and 
intellectual]  to  the  accomplishment  of  the  purposes  of  the 
moral  and  spiritual  system  ;  so  that  the  movements  of  the 
higher  economy  of  God's  government  coincide  most  pre- 
cisely with  those  of  the  lower  economy  of  the  natural 
world.  ]t  is  not  that  there  are  systems  of  movement — 


166  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

physical,  intellectual,  and  moral,  which  are  perpetually 
jostling  each  other,  or  which  clash  whenever  they  come 
in  contact,  and  which"  move  on  by  the  one  vanquishing 
the  other.  But,  on  the  contrary,  each  of  these  economies 
takes  its  uninterrupted  course,  as  if  there  were  no  other 
moving  within  the  same  space  ;  and  each  finds  the  means 
of  attaining  its  ends,  without  offering  the  smallest  distur- 
bance to  the  other.  All  things  are  physical  (using  the 
term  in  its  most  extensive  meaning)  and  all  things  are 
spiritual,  in  a  not  less  absolute  sense. 

A  due  understanding  of  this  exact  coincidence  of  the 
several  circles  of  the  Divine  agency  is  of  no  small  impor- 
tance ;  and  to  a  misunderstanding  of  it  we  may  trace 
many  of  the  errors  and  perplexities  that  infest  the  region 
of  religious  sentiment.  Now  in  times  of  action  and  of 
peril,  the  daily  experience  of  the  Christian  effectively 
teaches  him  (far  more  effectively  than  can  be  done  by  ab- 
stract explanations)  that  the  Divine  providence,  and  the 
spiritual  economy,  which  are  the  objects  of  his  faith,  do 
not  in  any  wise  interfere  with  the  ordinary  or  physical 
course  of  events :  in  other  words,  that  the  latter  is  not 
broken  in  upon,  or  disturbed  (miraculous  instances  excep- 
ted)  by  the  former.  With  this  evidence  of  experience  con- 
stantly pressed  upon  him,  his  faith  ascends  into  its  proper 
sphere  :  while  he  confidently  reposes  upon  the  Divine  de- 
claration— "  That  all  things  shall  work  together  for  good 
to  those  who  love  God." 

It  is  possible  and  probable,  that  many  perplexities  may 
harass  the  Christian  in  moments  of  reflection,  while  he 
vainly  endeavors  to  reconcile  the  combined  movements  of 
the  natural  and  spiritual  system  between  which  he  feels 
himself  to  be  placed.  But  though  these  difficulties  may 


PIETY/  AND  ENERGY.  167 

not  be  solved  by  meditation,  they  are  ere  long  dispelled  by 
the  presence  of  danger,  or  by  the  pressure  of  suffering  : 
he  is  brought  back  to  the  energy  and  consistency  of  com- 
mon sense,  and  manly  courage,  by  perils  that  must  be 
warded  off;  or  by  pains  that  must  be  endured.  Mean- 
while, the  powers  of  prayer  and  faith,  and  all  the  emotions 
that  belong  to  a  healthy  piety,  are  brought  into  action  ; 
and  abstruse  difficulties  are  forgotten. 

But  it  is  otherwise  in  the  case  of  one  who,  from  the 
commencement  to  the  close  of  his  course,  steers  his  bark 
upon  the  bosom  of  a  tranquil  sea.  No  sea  indeed,  plough- 
ed by  the  keel  of  mortality,  is  exempt  from  winds  and 
billows.  Yet  it  is  a  truth  that  the  ordinary  cares  and 
sorrows  of  life,  though  they  may  oppress  the  heart,  and 
fill  the  eyes  with  tears,  do  not,  in  many  instances,  so 
quicken  the  energies  of  the  soul  as,  to  break  up  its  illu- 
sions. Just  as  one  who  slumbers,  may  be  annoyed  by 
sounds  and  movements  near  him,  and  may  turn  uneasily 
from  side  to  side  ;  and  often  seem  as  if  about  to  start  from 
his  couch  ;  and  yet  may  not  be  actually  awakened.  The 
human  mind  is  prone  to  rest  within  the  circle  of  a  single 
order  of  sentiments  : — the  soul  loves  its  home  of  familiar 
emotions ;  and  will  endure  a  thousand  inconveniences 
rather  than  consent  to  be  dislodged  and  driven  to  seek  new 
quarters.  It  is  thus  that,  when  religious  feelings  have 
gained  supremacy  in  the  mind,  and  have  come  to  hold  the 
first  place  in  the  heart,  the  circumstances  of  an  ordinary 
lot  fail  to  exert  any  effective  antagonist  influence,  such  as 
shall  impart  to  religious  emotions  a  necessary  degree  of 
vigour.  The  man  of  faith — sincere  and  devout  as  he  is, 
has  become  exclusively  conversant  with  the  movements 
and  principles  of  that  spiritual  economy  within  which  all 


168  SATURDAV  EVENING. 

his  hopes  circulate.  This  one  order  of  ideas  rules  hi» 
mind.  Meantime  he  is  but  confusedly  conscious  of  the 
vulgar  realities  of  the  physical  ecomomy,  in  the  midst  of 
which  he  stands.  He  can  think  of  its  movements  only  as 
anomalies,  that  perplex  the  spiritual  world : — its  just  de- 
mands he  resents  as  importunities  : — the  irresistible  opera- 
tion of  its  laws  amazes  him,  as  often  as  he  finds  himself 
borne  onwards  by  their  power  : — he  thinks  of  the  world  as 
his  enemy,  not  so  much  by  its  corruptions,  as  by  its  very 
constitution  :  and  in  imbecile  alarm,  he  betakes  himself 
to  the  Divine  succour,  on  occasions  when  nothing  is 
actually  to  be  feared  but  some  just  consequence  of  his  own 
cowardice  or  indolence. 

It  is  manifest  that  one  who  in  any  degree  believes,  or 
who  darkly  surmises  that  the  laws  of  nature — the  very 
constitutions  of  the  Creator,  are  so  many  instances  of  sedi- 
tion and  anarchy,  is  altogether  unfitted  for  acting  his  part  in 
conformity  with  these  laws  : — every  occasion  of  life  (where- 
in mere  habit  and  the  force  of  custom  and  example  does 
not  bear  him  passively  onward  in  the  track  of  common 
sense)  must  find  him  embarrassed,  inconstant,  pusillani- 
mous ;  and  he  fails,  and  forfeits  reputation,  from  mere  in- 
certitude or  irresolution  ;  though  his  principles  are  as  firm 
as  those  of  a  martyr.  Meanwhile  he  is  looked  upon  in 
contempt  by  the  men  of  the  world,  who,  understanding 
nothing  of  the  natural  history  of  the  case  before  them, 
draw  an  inference  which  confirms  them  immoveably  in 
their  irreligion. 

The  transmutation  of  religious  faith  into  pusillanimous 
sentiment,  supposes  always  some  degree  of  natural  feeble- 
ness of  understanding ;  and  we  have  next  to  consider 
that  other  transmutation  which  takes  place  (especially  in 


PIETY  AND  ENERGY.  169 

tranquil  times)  in  the  case  of  men  whose  intellectual  fac- 
ulties are  vigorous. 

Men  of  energy  and  intelligence,  sincere  in  their  religi- 
ous convictions  (at  least  at  the  commencement  of  their 
course)  who  are  pressing  forward  on  the  busy  and  gainful 
paths  of  public  life,  soon  become  far  too  well  acquainted 
with  the  principles  and  machinery  of  the  natural  world, 
and  (by  their  success  in  adapting  themselves  to  its  laws) 
are  too  well  content  with  its  constitutions  to  entertain  the 
mystical  belief  of  the  religionist,  as  above  described,  who 
can  reconcile  himself  to  nothing  but  what  is  spiritual ; 
and  who  thinks  nature  an  invasion  upon  the  economy  of 
grace.  These,  on  the  contrary,  fully  persuaded  as  they  are 
of  the  reality,  the  permanence,  and  the  invariable  regularity 
of  the  natural  world,  and  yet  retaining  the  dogmas  of  their 
religious  belief,  look  upon  whatever  seems  peculiarly  to 
belong  to  the  Divine  and  spiritual  system,  as  an  anomaly, 
or  special  interposition,  brought  in  on  rare  occasions,  just 
for  the  purpose  of  maintaining  piety  in  the  world.  Mean- 
while, from  their  own  conduct  and  motives  they  rigidly 
exclude  whatever  is  not  purely  secular. 

But  when  religion  has  once  yielded  the  supremacy 
which  is  its  right,  it  quickly  fades  into  a  thin  shadow,  and 
a  name.  These  men  therefore,  of  secular  habits,  and 
meagre  religious  belief,  insensibly  surrender,  point  after 
point  of  their  first  convictions,  until  they  become  in  all 
respects  like  others : — except  the  disadvantage  of  a  pro- 
fession which  serves  only  to  overcloud  their  hours  of 
reflection,  and  to  sully  their  public  conduct.  Yet  it  is 
such,  in  an  age  like  our  own,  that,  by  tens  of  thousands, 
extend  the  front,  and  give  splendour  to  the  array  of  visible 
Christianity.  May  it  not  be  conjectured  that,  at  the 

16 


170  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

present  moment,  where  we  shall  find  one  man  who  ia 
both  sound-minded  and  truly  spiritual,  we  shall  meet 
with  three  pusillanimous  religionists,  and  twenty  secular 
believers? 

It  may  now  be  curious,  and  perhaps  profitable,  to  im- 
agine such  a  course  of  events  as  might  restore  energy  to 
faith  : — this%  subject  we  shall  next  pursue. 


XIII. 

THE  LAST  CONFLICT  OF  GREAT 

PRINCIPLES. 

\ 

— "The  Son  of  Man,  when  he  cometh,  shall  he  find  Faith  on  the  Earth  ?" 


THE  general  expectation  of  Christians  at  the  present 
moment,  supported  by  considerable  evidence,  is,  that  a 
wide  diffusion  and  visible  triumph  of  the  Gospel  draws 
on  apace  ;  and  that  now,  without  any  new  or  remarkable 
pause,  truth  and  piety  shall  advance — shall  receive  the 
homage  of  larger  and  larger  portions  of  mankind,  until 
"  all  the  earth  is  filled  with  the  knowledge  of  the  Lord." 

This,  we  say,  is  the  common  belief  of  the  church  and 
many  reasons  may  be  adduced  that  give  strength  to  so 
cheering  a  hope.  Nevertheless  a  contrary  opinion  may 
assuredly  be  entertained  ;  at  any  rate  some  advantage 
may  be -drawn  from  following,  for  a  moment  (as  matter  of 
hypothesis  and  meditation)  such  a  supposition.  We  do 
so  therefore,  without  giving  suffrage  to  the  opinion,  as  if 
it  were  more  probable  than  its  opposite.  But  in  fact  it  is 
only  by  calm  attention  to  both  sides  of  a  doubtful  alternative 
that  we  can  be  prepared  to  rest  securely  in  the  one  we 
after  all  prefer. 

A  rise  and  fall,  or  alteration,  of  antagonist  forces  takes 
its  course  in  all  human  affairs.  History  is  the  narrative  of 
the  prevalence,  by  turns,  of  the  counteractive  powers  that 
sway  the  world  ;  and  ordinarily  it  happens  that,  at  the 
moment  when  a  certain  power  reaches  the  acme  of  its 
supremacy /and  when,  as  with  a  flourish  of  trumpets,  it 


172  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

proclaims  its  undisputed  triumph,  it  does,  in  that  very 
blast  of  pride,  announce  the  re-appearance  of  its  rival. 
Despotism,  civil  and  religious,  and  all  the  foul  forms  of 
political  and  ecclesiastical  corruption,  have,  on  many  sig- 
nal occasions,  thus  boasted  and  fallen  in  one  and  the 
same  day.  And  thus  too  (holding  other  considerations  for 
awhile  in  abeyance)  it  must  be  granted  as  possible — That 
the  contest  which  is  now  actually  taking  place  on  the 
stage  of  European  affairs,  between  the  principle  of  religi- 
ous belief  (a  belief  which,  owing  to  the  circumstances  of 
the  times  is  too  little  energetic)  and  the  secular  or  atheis- 
tical spirit — a  spirit  of  vigour,  intelligence,  contumacy,  and 
levity  ;  may  go  on  to  the  advantage  of  the  latter,  until 
its  languishing  opponent  lies  in  the  dust,  or  is  driven  into 
the  wilderness.  If  a  better  issue  may  reasonably  be 
hoped  for,  this,  sad  as  it  is,  seems  to  accord  naturally 
enough  with  the  course  of  recent  events. 

It  is  not  the  argumentative,  or  documentary  proof, 
which  reposes  on  the  shelves  of  our  libraries  (how  good 
soever  it  may  be)  that  will  ever  effectively  maintain  the 
ground  of  Religion  against  its  adversaries.  The  Author 
of  Christianity  has  indeed  consigned  his  doctrine  to  pa- 
per ;  but  the  defence  and  propagation  of  it  is  committed, 
age  after  age,  to  living  depositaries.  Celestial  truth  is  a 
jewel  in  a  pix  ;  but  which,  unless  it  be  worn  by  its  posses- 
sor, might  as  well  have  resied  in  its  quarry.  There  is  a 
written,  and  there  is  a  Living  Testimony,  addressed  by 
Heaven  to  men.  But  the  former  only  becomes  a  passive 
organ  of  transmission,  whenever  the  latter  fails  in  energy 
and  purity. — Meanwhile,  if  the  power  of  religion  decays, 
the  power  of  irreligion  does  not  at  the  same  moment 
decline  ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  starts  up  then  into  tenfold 
activity. 


LAST  CONFLICT  OP  GREAT  PRINCIPLES.  173 

If  therefore,  at  any  time,  the  question  be  asked — '  Is 
Christianity  about  to  advance,  or  to  recede  ?'  the  answer 
must  turn  (so  far  as  human  probabilities  are  implied)  up- 
on the  relative  vigour,  at  the  moment,  the  Living  Testi- 
mony, and  of  the  spirit  of  impiety  and  atheism.  If,  for 
example,  at  any  season,  while  unbelief  and  irreligion  are 
inert,  after  a  long  period  of  undisturbed  empire,  the  spirit 
of  Religion  be  gathering  to  itself  inward  strength,  be  ris- 
ing and  mantling  in  dignity  and  purity  of  sentiment,  be 
more  sincere  and  fervent,  and  more  deeply  moved,  and 
seem  to  be  mustering  force  for  achievement  greater  than 
itself  distinctly  foresees  ;  then  may  an  expansion  of  truth 
be  looked  for,  and  an  overthrow  of  the  powers  of  evil. — 
Such  was  the  relative  position  of  the  antagonists  in  the 
first  age  of  Christianity  ;  and  such  again  at  the  bursting 
forth  of  the  Reformation. 

On  the  contrary,  if  at  any  period,  the  secular  spirit  be 
peculiarly  rife  with  intelligence  and  power;  and  at  the 
same  time  the  Living  Testimony  seem  to  have  spent  its 
force  ; — -if,  with  the  faith  of  Christians,  there  be  combined 
little  of  virtue,  or  manly  vigour  and  constancy  ;  and  if, 
moreover,  the  Witnesses  for  God  be  factiously  divided, 
brother  againt  brother,  then  nothing  less  than  some  extra- 
ordinary interposition  from  on  High  will  prevent  the 
stronger  power  from  trampling  on  the  weaker.  This 
stands  certain  without  argument. 

We  do  not  here  either  affirm  or  deny  this  to  be  now  the 
relative  position  of  Christianity  in  Europe  :  but  we  go  on 
with  our  hypothetical  meditation,  and  imagine  a  triumph 
of  impiety  ; — a  triumph  which,  even  should  it  actually  be 
in  the  womb  of  time,  shall  endure  only  for  an  hour  ;  and 
it  shall  be  the  "  LAST  HOUR"  of  darkness. 

The  covert  scepticism  of  the  eighteenth  century,  has  be- 
16* 


174  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

come  open  atheism  in  the  nineteenth.  It  may  be  hard  to 
determine  whether  this  is  a  desirable  ripening  of  Evil  or 
not ;  but  on  the  supposition  of  the  contemporaneous  de- 
cline of  religion,  it  is  peculiarly  significant ;  for  we  can  be 
at  no  loss  in  imagining  the  scene,  when  this  bolder  im- 
piety shall  believe  itself,  at  length,  free  from  all  constraint 
and  fear.  The  spread  of  unbelief,  after  so  signal  a  restora- 
tion of  Christianity  as  we  have  seen  take  place  in  our  day, 
may  indeed  appear  highly  improbable.  But  in  truth,  if 
the  matter  be  looked  at  attentively,  we  shall  be  compelled 
to  grant,  that  the  future  increase  of  infidelity  to  any  ex- 
tent, is  not  a  whit  more  difficult  to  suppose  than  its  exis- 
tence at  all  is  hard  to  account  for,  in  an  age  like  our  own, 
when,  as  matter  of  argument,  it  has  been  beaten  from  all 
its  positions  ;  and  when,  after  the  severest  possible  contest, 
Christianity  has  remained  in  possession  of  the  whole  of  its 
evidence,  and  has  received  the  benefit  of  having  that  evi- 
dense  purged  of  dross,  and  freed  from  suspicion.  On 
hypothetical  grounds  it  might  well  have  been  supposed 
that  the  controversies  of  the  last  forty  years,  and  the  uni- 
form triumphs  of  Christianity  in  every  contest,  must,  by 
this  time,  have  rendered  infidelity  the  object  of  contempt 
among  all  well-informed  men.  If  reason  held  sway  in  the 
world,  nothing  else  could  have  taken  place.  But  it  is 
otherwise  ;  and  if  so,  then  the  spread  of  that  which,  under 
such  circumstances,  dares  at  all  to  exist,  must  not  be 
deemed  incredible,  or  indeed  improbable  :  if  it  can  live,  it 
may  grow. 

It  is  true  that,  for  some  time  past,  atheism  has  held  its 
place  in  this,  and  other  European  countries,  by  its  sinuosity, 
its  mobility ;  by  its  affected  modesty,  and  its  graceful 
evasion  of  open  warfare;  and  by  the  malicious  courteous- 
ness  of  the  obeisance  it  offers  to  religion,  as  if  she  wished 


LAST  CONFLICT  OF  GREAT  PRINCIPLES.  175 

that  her  claims  should  be  reverenced,  but  not  examined. 
Meanwhile  it  industriously  pursues  speculations  which, 
though  in  their  apparent  tendency  they  have  no  bearing 
upon  the  question  of  Christianity,  are  always  brought  to  a 
conclusion  that  silently  implies  its  nullity.  By  a  similar 
craftiness,  an  invading  or  a  rebel  force,  which  has  again 
and  again  been  beaten  on  the  fair  and  broad  field  of  war, 
holds  its  existence,  year  after  year,  in  the  bosom  of  a  dis- 
tracted country.  Well  knowing  its  weakness  in  arms  ;  and 
yet  relying  upon  the  aid  of  a  disaffected  and  disloyal  faction 
in  the  land,  it  disperses  itself  through  every  district ; — is 
nowhere  to  be  seen  in  array  ;  is  nowhere  to  be  encounter- 
ed ;  and  is  not  to  be  destroyed,  because  not  to  be  met  with 
in  the  field :  yet  does  it  keep  alive  treason  and  anarchy 
through  the  realm. 

Shall  we  place  our  reliance  upon  those  bulworks  of  re- 
ligion which  the  vigilance  and  munificence  of  our  ances- 
tors reared  for  its  defence,  and  which  we  venerate  as  con- 
servative of  all  that  is  most  precious  ?  Alas  !  such  artifi- 
cial barriers  may  disappear  more  suddenly  than  the  morn- 
ing mist.  Nothing  is  permanent  belonging  to  man,  but 
his  inconstancy.  The  weeks  of  one  summer — .the  brief 
interval  between  the  springing  of  the  blade,  and  the  putting 
in  of  the  sickle  on  our  fields,  may  see  pass  away,  as  a  for- 
gotten dream,  what  we  had  believed  to  stand  firm  as  a 
mountain.  Nor  are  the  means  to  which  recent  religious 
zeal  has  given  existence  much  more  to  be  trusted,  than 
the  venerable  institutions  of  other  times.  Two  powers 
only  are  entitled  to  be  considered  as  grounds  of  confident 
calculation,  in  forecasting  future  events : — these  are,  on  the 
one  hand,  the  bad  passions  of  man — his  sensuality,  his 
levity,  his  virulence,  his  ferocity  ;  which  infallibly,  and 
alike  in  every  age,  and  in  every  hour  of  every  age,  are  in 


176  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

movement,  and  actually  ready  to  break  forth,  and  to  rage, 
just  so  far  as  they  are  not  repressed.  And  on  the  other 
hand,  that  strong  arm  of  Divine  and  conservative  Provi- 
dence, which  (governed  by  reasons  inscrutable)  now  with- 
draws itself  almost  from  the  theatre  of  human  affairs ; 
and  now  again,  with  irresistible  force,  interposes  to  rescue 
the  ark  of  Religion,  and  to  renovate  the  corrupting  mass 
of  the  human  system.  These  two  permanent  antagonist 
powers  excepted,  nothing  that  belongs  to  man  is  invaria- 
ble ;  and  at  all  times,  whatever  of  evil  the  first  of  them 
can  produce,  may  justly  be  feared — short  of  that  utter  de- 
solation which  the  second  will  assuredly  prevent: 

It  may  most  confidently  be  prognosticated  that  the 
atheism  which  is  now  bland,  submissive,  respectful,  crafty 
will  become  a  creature  altogether  of  another  temper,  should 
it  ever  reach  the  point  of  supremacy  and  visible  triumph. 
To  all  powers  it  belongs  to  change  their  external  charac- 
ter, as  well  as  their  rate  of  movement,  when  they  spring 
up,  or  burst  away  from  the  grasp  of  an  antagonist.  So 
would  it  be  with  Christianity  ; — so  shall  it  be,  when  it 
gains  the  ascendant.  Nor  would  the  spread  of  atheism 
be  slow,  if  a  decided  advantage  were  once  obtained  over 
religion  ;  nor  would  its  deportment  be  moderate.  If  there 
be  an  imprudence  greater  than  that  of  placing  reliance 
upon  any  existing  institutions  for  the  preservation  of  reli- 
gion, it  is  to  believe  that  the  suavity,  the  tolerance,  the 
bland  indifference,  and  the  enlightened  liberality,  which 
now  are  the  garb  of  the  infidel  spirit,  bfdong  to  it  by  na- 
ture, or  would  be  retained  a  day  after  it  had  nothing  to 
fear  from  its  rival. 

The  whole  history  of  man  makes  it  certain,  that  sen- 
suality, frivolity,  and  cupidity  (which  are  the  close  com- 
panions always  of  atheism)  connect  themselves  with 


LAST  CONFLICT  OP  GREAT  PRINCIPLES.  177 

ferocity,  as  surely  as  superstition  and  fanaticism  do  so. 
If  false  religion  has  always  been  sanguinary  ;  so  likewise 
has  lust ;  so  has  voluptuous  levity  :  so  has  covetousness  : 
the  alliance  is  deep  seated  among  the  very  roots  of  passion 
in  the  human  heart. 

Shall  we  affirm  that  none  but  the  priest  is  by  nature 
persecutor  ;  and  that  the  atheist  has  no  fang  ?  Yain  con- 
ceit !  The  priest  indeed  curses  this  or  that  rival  sect ; 
and  would  fain  exterminate  his  foe :  but  the  atheist  holds 
mankind  at  large  in  contempt ;  and  would  be  ready,  with 
a  jest,  to  blot  out  all  life  from  the  world.  Besides ;  as 
the  atheist  cannot  expunge  from  human  nature  its  latent 
instincts  of  religious  fear  and  hope,  these  principles  will 
be  always  at  work  to  trouble  his  security ;  and  therefore 
to  provoke  his  resentment.  Let  but  the  day  come  when 
it  shall  be  fearlessly  and  commonly  professed  that  "  Death 
is  annihilation,"  and  that  therefore  the  •  pleasures  of  appe- 
tite, graced  by  intelligence,  are  the  whole  portion  of  man, 
and  this  horrible  opinion  shall  quickly  become  parent  to 
a  Giant  Cruelty,  loftier  in  stature,  and  more  malign  than 
any  the  earth  has  hitherto  beheld.  Even  the  most  san- 
guinary superstitions  have  had  some  profession  of  sanctity 
to  maintain ;  a  reserve,  a  saving  hypocrisy,  a  balance  of 
sentiments,  which  has  set  bounds  to  their  demand  of 
blood.  But  atheism  is  a  simple  element :  it  has  no  res- 
training motive ;  and  must  act  like  itself \  with  a  dread- 
ful ingenuousness.'  And  with  what  vehemence  of  spite 
shall  this  monster,  should  he  ever  win  the  sceptre  of  the 
world,  turn,  and  search  on  all  sides  for  the  residue  of 
those  who,  by  their  testimony  in  favour  of  the  future  life, 
sicken  his  gust  of  pleasure,  and  make  pallid  his  joyous 
and  florid  health. 

It  were  not  well  (as  it  is  not  needful)  to  imagine  in 


178  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

particulars  the  ingenuities  of  brutal  rage  which,  in  such  an 
era  of  triumphant  impiety  as  we  are  supposing,  shall  be 
brought  into  play  by  the  chiefs  of  sensuality  and  atheism, 
for  the  purpose  of  breaking  the  constancy  of  the  few  who 
shall  maintain  the  faith  of  religion.  With  what  zeal 
shall  it  be  attempted  to  purge  the  world,  once  and  for 
ever,  of  the  fear  of  God,  and  belief  of  immortality  !  The 
ruling  spirit  of  delusion,  the  invisible,  but  inveterate  enemy 
of  man — far  better  taught  in  the  mysteries  of  the  spiritual 
world  than  are  his  agents  and  ministers  on  earth,  and  not 
free  from  an  appalling  forescent  of  his  own  near  approach- 
ing discomfiture,  shall  nevertheless  be  so  flushed  with 
success  (though  racked  by  inward  despair)  that  he  shall 
put  in  movement  the  entire  force  of  his  kingdom,  to  bear 
upon  this  last  hour  of  conflict.  If,  when  the  obsolete  and 
childish  fables  of  the  Greek  and  Roman  worship  were 
approaching  their  fates,  the  father  of  error  breathed  so 
much  of  infernal  rage  into  the  bosoms  of  Diocletian  and 
Galerius ;  and  if  again,  when  the  decayed  follies  of 
Popery  were  shaking  to  their  fall,  he  inspired,  with  a  still 
more  intense  ferocity,  the  hearts,  of  Austrian  Charles,  and 
of  Philip,  and  of  Henry,  and  his  daughter,  and  of  her 
bishops,  how  much  more  shall  he  be  furious,  when  it  is 
not  some  single  form  of  impiety  that  is  in  peril ;  but  when 
the  great  and  comprehensive  controversy — the  question  of 
all  ages,  between  SENSE  and  FAITH,  shall  draw  to  a 
crisis  ;  and  when  it  shall  seem  as  if  now  a  single  convul- 
sive effort  might  overthrow  for  ever  the  belief  of  immor- 
tality. No  : — that  is  a  triumph  which  shall  never  be 
boasted.  Let  atheism  prevail  as  it  may,  some  shall  re- 
main firm  to  the  hope  of  life,  and  loyal  to  the  honour  of 
God.  These  shall  indeed  have  been  long  forsaken  by 
multitudes  that  once  made  common  cause  with  them* — 


LA9T  CONFLICT  OP  GREAT  PRINCIPLES.  179 

The  congregation  of  Christ  shall  have  thinned  daily. — 
The  visionary  religionist  shall  have  gone  out,  hand  in 
hand  with  the  wrangler,  and  the  leader  of  faction.     The 
cloaked  hypocrite,  the  plausible,  conformist,  the  sanctimo- 
nious, and.  the  rigid,  together  with  the  licentious,  shall 
have  walked  away.     Nor  must  we  fail  to  mention  the 
fattened  depredator  on  the  goods  of  the  church,  who,  at  the 
first  alarm — at  the  first  approach  of  affliction,  shall  effect 
his  escape,  and  very  quickly  will  be  seen  to  have  taken  his 
place  and  a  sop,  as  pensioner  at  the  royal  table  of  impiety. 
Yes,  all  shall  have  gone  off  but  the  few — learned  or  igno- 
rant— great  or   mean,  who   heretofore  had    truly  held 
converse  with  Heaven,  and  whom  Heaven  will  not  for- 
sake.    Such  shall  be  strengthened  to  maintain  a  good 
profession.     In  the  day  of  trouble  there  shall  be  added, 
"  to  their  faith  virtue."     Faith  itself  shall  reach  assurance 
of  things  unseen  :  every  misgiving  thought  shall  be  scat- 
tered; and  while  it  shall   seem  as  if  God  had  indeed 
withdrawn  himself  from  the  earth,  the  persuasion  of  his 
presence  shall  be  the  most  vivid. 

As  it  is  true  that,  in  a  time  of  laxity  and  ease  the  dis- 
ruption of  Faith  and  Virtue  is  the  principal  occasion  of 
leading  men  into  infidelity,  by  teaching  them  to  call  in 
question,  first  their  own  religion,  and -then  that  of  their 
neighbours ;  so  is  it  found  that  in,  a  time  of  affliction,  the 
invigoration  of  Faith  by  Virtue  directly  operates  to  aug- 
ment the  number  of  believers.  Thus  may  we  suppose  it 
to  be  again.  Even  when  the  victims  are  bound,  and  the 
fires  are  kindling,  some — perhaps  not  a  few,  of  those  who 
had  thoughtlessly  followed  in  the  train  of  impiety,  shall  be 
smitten  to  the  heart,  and  shall  loudly,  though  at  the  peril 
of  life  profess  themselves  one  with  the  faithful.  The 
LIVING  TESTIMONY  shall  suddenly  revive,  and  spread 


180  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

itself,  and  shall  daunt  the  adversary.  The  Atheist  Power 
shall  quail,  and  confess  his  fears — or  his  incertitude : — 
and  perhaps,  at  that  very  moment,  when  the  hostile  parties 
are  confronting  each  other  in  suspense — yes,  in  the  depth 
of  that  "  hour  of  darkness" — at  midnight,  a  cry  shall  be 
heard--"  Behold  the  Bridegroom  cometh  !" 


XIT, 
LICENTIOUS  RELIGIONISM, 

"  Add  to  virtus  Knowledge,  and  to  knowledge  Temperance," 


To  renounce  all  energy  and  consistency  of  conduct  on 
the  plea  of  Faith,  is  easy : — and  so  is  it  easy  to  profess 
and  practise  secular  virtue,  in  contempt  of  Faith.  These 
two  extremes  have  in  all  ages  been  of  common  occurrence. 
But  Christianity  requires  (as  it  is  condensely  expressed  in 
the  second  member  of  our  apostolic  canon)  that  Virtue,  or 
energy  of  character,  should  spring  from  evangelical  prin- 
ciples ;  and  that  these  principles,  moreover,  should  insure 
personal  purity,  and  the  government  of  animal  appetites. 

The  extremes  we  have  mentioned,  between  which  the 
well  instructed  Christian  holds  the  mean,  are  correlatives, 
directly  influencing  each  other. — It  is  what  they  see  of  the 
laxity,  the  imbecility,  the  instability  of  many  religionists, 
which  indurates  secular  men  in  their  impiety,  and  leads 
them  with  an  avowed  contempt  of  religious  principles,  to 
rest  the  motives  of  their  conduct  upon  the  lower  ground  of 
expediency,  utility,  honour,  and  a  regard  to  reputation. 
On  the  other  hand  (as  there  is  too  much  reason  too  fear) 
the  lax  religionist,  seeing,  as  he  does,  that  secular  princi- 
ples often  produce  a  sort  of  consistency  and  virtue  of  which 
he  knows  himself  to  be  entirely  destitute,  and  finding 
that  his  doctrine  of  faith  has  no  efficiency  of  a  similar 
kind,  arrives  tacitly  at  the  conclusion  that  the  honour, 
truth,  integrity,  candour,  ingenuousness,  and  self  com- 
mand, in  which  some  worldly  men  excel,  are  nothing  bet- 
17 


182  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

ter  than  "  worldly  virtues,"  or  false  semblances  of  goodness, 
with  which  "  a  spiritual  man"  should  have  little  or  nothing 
to  do.  Thus  the  secular  man  is  made  the  more  profane 
by  his  neighbourhood  to  the  religionist ;  and  the  religionist 
more  relaxed,  by  his  contact  with  the  worldling. 

The  virtue  taught  by  the  Apostles,  and  exemplified  also 
in  every  age  by  a  good  number  of  ingenuous  followers  of 
Christ,  is  incomparably  more  complete,  and  more  sound, 
and  more  animate,  than  that  of  the  worldling ;  because 
it  reaches  to  the  deepest  motives — flows  out  equally  from 
the  very  centre  of  the  soul,  and  derives  its  force  always 
from  reasons  that  are  big  with  the  powers  of  infinity. 
And  then  the  consistent  Christian,  when  compared,  on  the 
other  side,  with  the  mere  religionist,  has  a  great  advantage, 
inasmuch  as  (\\efirst  element  of  his  spiritual  existence  is 
an  unsophisticated  perception  of  the  evil  of  sin,  and  a 
sincere  belief  of  the  peril  that  thence  accrues  to  himself ; 
and  because  its  second  element  is  an  equally  unsophisticat- 
ed and  affectionate  gratitude  to  Him  to  whom  he  owes 
deliverance.  His  nice  sense  of  honour,  therefore,  draws 
its  acuteness  and  its  vivacity  from  a  perpetual  conscious- 
ness of  the  presence  of  One,  whose  eye  penetrates  the 
spirit,  and  whose  displeasure  is  the  greatest  of  all  evils. 

t£  Add  to  knowledge  temperance  :" — or,  in  other  words, 
let  evangelical  principles  operate  to  produce  self-command, 
and  the  due  government  of  animal  appetites.  The  ad- 
monition, then,  bears  directly  against  that  licentious  abuse 
of  the  Gospel  which,  to  some  extent  has  always  accom- 
panied the  proclamation  of  Divine  mercy,  and  which  it 
must  be  confessed  has,  in  a  peculiar  degree  abounded  in 
modern  times. 

Those  enormities  of  conduct  which,  from  time  to  time, 
connect  themselves  with  religious  profession,  are  not  of 


LICENTIOUS  RELIGIONISM.  183 

any  very  extensive  ill  consequence  to  Christianity,  unless 
they  spring,  by  some  mode  of  theological  sophistry,  from 
its  capital  doctrines.  The  flagrant  vices  and  gross  scan- 
dals that  may  break  forth  for  a  moment,  and  disappear, 
being  rebuked,  as  by  the  acclamation  of  all  men,  inflict 
only  a  transient  injury  upon  the  cause  of  truth.  It  is 
otherwise  when  debauched  principles  and  flagitous  prac- 
tices link  themselves,  by  means  of  bad  logic,  with  the 
abstruse  points  of  religion,  and  gravely  demand  for  them- 
selves the  respect  that  should  be  paid  to  well-digested  and 
well-defended  systems.  In  such  cases  a  disease,  fatally 
virulent,  touches  the  vital  powers  of  Christianity,  and  be- 
speaks a  general  corruption,  without  which  the  malady 
could  not  have  advanced  so  far. 

It  is  characteristic  of  evils  of  this  order,  that  they  are 
found  to  exist,  first,  in  a  state  of  sublimation,  or  apparent 
purity;  and  afterwards,  by  a  very  quick  transition,  in  a 
state  of  gross  deformity  and  putrescence.  We  say  the 
one  precedes  the  other :  but  when  produced  they  continue 
to  be  coeval ;  and  are  always  nearly  associated.  The 
false  glory  of  the  o.ie,  hovers  over  the  foul  corruption  of 
the  other  ;  just  as  the  decay  of  animal  matter  is  indicated, 
during  the  blackness  of  night,  by  a  phosphoric  corruscation, 
than  which  nothing  is  seemingly  more  etherial  or  unsul- 
lied. But  in  the  order  of  generation,  we  must  say  (revers- 
ing the  apostolic  phrase),  "  That  which  is  first  is  spiritual ; 
afterwards  that  which  is  natural." 

All  the  laws  of  the  intellectual  world  must  be  subvert- 
ed before  it  could  ever  happen  that  things  gross  and 
corrupt  should  bring  into  existence  things  elevated  and 
refined.  The  reverse  is,  as  we  have  said,  -the  order  of 
nature.  Principles  that  are  recondite,  subtile,  unearthly, 
become  the  germinating  causes  of  flagrant  evils,  that 


184  SATURDAY  EVENING, 

appal  mankind,  and  that  especially  excite  wonder  on 
account  of  their  parentage  or  origin.  It  follows,  if  gross 
corruptions  be  the  product  of  spiritual  errors,  that  when 
the  process  of  cure  is  in  question,  little  good  will  be  effect- 
ed if,  while  we  attack  the  offspring,  we  observe  tenderness- 
and  reverence  toward  the  parent.  This  method  of  pro- 
cedure must  always  prove  itself  nugatory. 

To  corne  to  the  instance  before  us,  of  the  licentious 
abuse  of  evangelical  principles. — If  the  vulgar  who,  with 
so  greedy  a  relish  of  whatever  is  rank  and  fleshly,  drink 
in  corrupt  doctrine,  and  actually  avail  themselves  of  the 
indulgence  that  flows  from  their  creedr  could  be  entirely 
deprived  of  all  the  countenance  and  aid  they  receive  from 
those  of  their  leaders  whose  error  is  altogether  of  an  intel- 
lectual kind,  and  whose  conduct  is  better  than  their  doe- 
trine,  they  must  almost  instantly  fall  back  from  their 
standing  within  the  pale  of  Christianity,  and  must  very 
quickly  merge,  without  distinction,  in  the  general  mass 
of  irreligion.  It  is  to  the  wily  and  perverse  intelligence, 
the  ingenuity,  and  chicane,  the  false  sublimity  and  pathos,, 
of  a  few  divine  sophists,  that  the  licentious  vulgar  of  the 
Christian  polity  owe  their  very  existence^  as  professors  of 
the  Gospel — Could  we  but  withdraw  these  leaders,  we 
should  at  once  dissolve  the  body,  at  the  head  of  which 
they  stand. 

Those  thunders  of  commination  which,  not  unfrequent- 
ly,  roll  from  orthodox  pulpks  over  the  quarters  of  licentious 
religionism,  die  away  (for  the  most  part)  in  fruitless  echoes. 
The  spiritual  or  intellectual  heretic  scorns  such  rebukes, 
as  calumnious  (at  least  in  his  own  case)  while,  if  listened 
to  at  all  by  the  sensual  crowd,  they  are  either  jeered  at,, 
as  a  proof  of  ignorance  in  the  mysteries  of  the  Gospel  ;.  or 
they  operate  directly  to  cherish  and  to  flatter  the  capital 


LICENTIOUS  RELIGIONISM.  185 

delusion  of  which  these  persons  are  the  victims.  The 
vindicator  of  morality  1ms  already  receded  from  his  van- 
tage ground,  and  has  virtually  surrendered  the  matter  in 
dispute,  when  he  opens  the  controversy  with  flagrant  offen- 
ders against  virtue  in  a  specific  style,  which  confesses 
their  right  to  be  treated  as  religionists.  By  so  doing  he 
transfers  what  belongs  immediately  to  common  sense  and 
good  feeling,  to  the  hazy  ground  of  polemics.  Now  the 
very  core  and  secret  of  the  delusion  which  envelopes  the 
licentious  religionist,  is  this  same  habit  of  escaping  from 
the  ground  of  common  sense  and  conscience,  into  the 
mysticism  of  abstruse  and  absurd  theology.  Theology, 
with  its  abstractions,  does  but  inflame  evils  of  this  order. 
What  have  the  covetous,  or  the  impure,  or  the  unjust,  or 
the  cruel,  to  do  with  questions  of  theoretical  religion — 
questions  which  divines  themselves  neither  comprehend, 
nor  are  able  to  adjust  ? 

Nevertheless  the  immoral,  to  whatever  class  they  may 
belong,  are  not  to  be  abandoned  to  their  error  ;  but  must, 
by  all  means,  if  possible,  be  entreated  and  reclaimed.  Some 
kind  of  illusion  attends  always  the  indulgence  of  vicious 
desires  ;  and  whatever  may  be  the  peculiarity  of  that  illu- 
sion, or  its  strength,  it  ought  never  to  be  deemed  indissolu- 
ble. The  debauched  religionist,  how  deeply  soever  in- 
fatuated, has  not,  we  may  be  assured,  severed  himself  from 
the  conditions  of  his  moral  nature.  The  heir  of  a  future 
life,  and  the  subject  of  Divine  government,  might  as  easily 
lay  down,  at  the  last,  his  immortality,  or  evade  the  search 
of  the  ministers  of  Divine  justice,  as  now  quench  that  light 
of  conscience  which  is  the  "  candle  of  the  Lord"  in  the 
bosom  of  man.  Man  may  indeed  render  himself  brutish  ; 
but  it  is  in  vain  that  he  would  seek  to  take  the  rank  and 
destiny  of  the  brute. 

17* 


186  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

We  have  said  that  the  spiritual  or  intellectual  form  of 
religious  corruptions  should  be  first  assailed  ;  inasmuch  as 
it  is  the  parent  of  the  gross  or  flagrant  form.  This  being 
remembered,  we  remit,  to  another  occasion,  that  primary 
subject,  and  turn  to  the  secondary  ;  or  the  considerations 
of  the  means  to  be  employed  for  awakening  and  reclaim- 
ing those  of  the  lower  sort,  who  abuse  the  Gospel. 

It  is  evident  that  if  a  peculiar  strength  or  tenacity  be- 
longs to  any  vicious  infatuation,  there  must  be  found  a 
proportionate  force  in  the  power  that  assails  it.     Now  it 
will  be  granted  that,  if  there  be  at  all  such  an  infatuation, 
which,  more  trran  any  other,  is  firm,  even  as  the  thick 
folds  of  leviathan,  it  is  the  one  we  have  now  to  do  with. 
Here  are  men  conversant  with  the  purity  of  the  Scriptures, 
who  can  persuade  themselves  that  they  may  draw  thence 
a  license  for  every  enormity  of  the  fleshly  and  malignant 
passions  !     Amazing  perversity  !     Who  shall  deem  him- 
self qualified  to  contend  with  an  error  so  prodigious  ? 
This  is  not  the  place  for  bringing  into  calculation  the  irre- 
sistible efficacy  of  the  Divine  Spirit ; — an  efficacy  equally 
indispensable  in  all  cases  ;  and  to  which  all  difficulties 
are  the  same :  but  we  are  estimating  the  proportion  be- 
tween the  strength  of  the  evil  to  be  assailed,  and  the  power 
of  the  human  means,  that  are  applied  to  effect  its  removal. 
No  argument  is  needed  to  prove  that,  so  far  as  human 
agency  is  at  all  implied,  and  so  far  as  the  wished-for  result 
is  dependent  upon  that  agency,  a  disorder  so  grievous  as 
the  one  in  question,  is  not  to  be  subdued  by  ordinary  means. 
Certainly  it  will  not  yield  to  the  efforts  of  those  who 
themselves  are  lax  end  enfeebled  in  spirit — whose  own 
moral  perceptions  are  obscure — whose  hearts  are  not  in- 
genuous— whose  purposes  are  sinister,  and  whose  conduct 
is  frivolous.     Such  may  indeed  vent  their  spite,  or  may 


LICENTIOUS  RELIGIONISM.  187 

display  their  mastery  of  language  in  copious  streams  of 
indignant  rhetoric  ;  but  not  a  breeze  will  be  stirred  by  all 
this  eloquence  upon  the  surface  of  the  stagnant  pool  which 
we  desire  to  see  cleansed.  The  evil  is  a  substantial  one, 
as  well  as  inveterate  ;  and  must  be  contended  with  by  a 
power  that  has  in  it  a  proportionate  degree  of  fervour  and 
energy. 

The  degree  of  audacity  that  belongs,  at  any  era,  to 
flagrant  abuses  within  the  pale  of  Christianity,  may  be 
assumed  as  a  datum,  whence  to  calculate  the  vigour,  in- 
tegrity, and  fervour  of  the  Christian  ministry,  at  the  same 
time.  The  Christian  ministry  may  fairly  be  considered 
as  constituting,  in  every  age,  the  LIVING  POWER  OP  RE- 
PROOF, by  which  the  constant  tendency  of  human  nature 
to  licentiousness  and  corruption  is  to  be  held  in  check. 
This  tendency  to  disorder,  and  this  Power  of  repression, 
are  antagonist  forces,  of  which  the  one  will  rise,  as  the 
other  falls  ;  or  the  one  recede,  as  the  other  advances ;  and 
which,  therefore,  may,  in  their  relative  state  of  exaltation 
or  depression,  be  taken  as  means  of  measurement,  the  one 
for  the  other.  For  example  ;  do  we  find  an  age  in  which 
pride,  luxuriousness,  impurity,  rapacity,  are  suffered  to 
come  near  to  the  altar  of  God,  and  to  receive  thence,  either 
by  the  connivance  or  timidity  of  the  ministers  of  that  altar, 
the  sacred  symbols  of  the  faith  ? — We  have  then,  unques- 
tionably, found  a  time  in  which,  though  there  may  be 
much  eloquence  in  pulpits,  much  learning,  much  suavity, 
and  some  fair  quantity  of  the  higher  excellencies  of  Chris- 
tian morals,  there  is  little  or  no  energy,  or  integrity,  or 
simplicity,  in  the  body  that  wields  the  Living  power  of 
Rebuke. 

Whoever  then  loudly  and  petulantly  complains  of  the 
impudent  front  which  religious  licentiousness  is  showing 


188  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

within  his  circle,  should  first  be  prepared  satisfactorily  to 
prove  that  these  disorders  (which  so  much  annoy  him)  do 
not  at  all  indicate  the  inefficiency,  or  the  unsoundness  of 
his  own  mode  of  contending  with  them.  It  is  the  more 
necessary  to  admit  impartial  examination  on  such  an 
occasion,  because  the  actual  fault  in  every  such  case  is 
very  likely  to  attach,  not  specially  to  the  individual ;  but 
rather  to  the  general  spirit  of  the  body  to  which  he  belongs  ; 
or  to  the  prevailing  style  of  public  instruction  in  the  age ; 
or  to  the  false  assumptions,  or  fanatical  dogmas,  or  meta- 
physical crudities,  of  the  theological  system  to  which  the 
individual  has  bowed.  Now  we  may,  at  any  time,  find 
ten  men  who  have  discernment  and  ingenuousness  enough 
to  discover  and  to  acknowledge  their  personal  faults ;  soon- 
er than  one  man  who  has  the  greatness  of  mind  requisite 
to  perceive  and  confess  the  faults  of  the  system  under 
whicft  he  has  been  reared,  and  which  he  stands  pledged  to 
support.  This  is  a  point  reached  only  by  a  high  order  of 
intelligence ;  and  therefore  attained  (spontaneously)  only 
by  an  exceedingly  small  number  of  mankind. 

So  powerful  is  the  influence  of  long-existing  mental 
usages,  and  habits  of  thought,  and  forms  of  expression, 
that  almost  any  degree  of  aberration  from  reason  and  truth 
may  take  place  (so  that  it  does  but  advance  upon  us  grad- 
ually) without  exciting  the  attention,  even  of  intelligent 
minds.  Let  but  a  numerous  body  descend,  with  a  well- 
timed  step,  upon  an  easy  declivity,  and  the  lowest  depths 
may  be  reached  before  any  one  pauses  to  ask — "whither 
are  we  tending  ?"  Hence  it  is  that,  when  at  distant  inter- 
vals, men  are  sent  forth  by  Heaven  to  reinstate  I  he  church, 
or  to  reclaim  mankind  from  general  corruptions,  they  find 
that  the  labour  of  half  their  allotted  term  of  years  hardly 
suffices  to  convince  their  contemporaries  (even  the  reasona- 


LICENTIOUS  RELIGIONISM.  189 

ble  portion  of  them)  that  all  things  are  not  sound  and 
right. 

It  appears  then,  that  when  we  come  to  ask  by  what 
means  that  corruption  and  licentiousness  which  is  always 
apt  to  prevail  within  the  church  may  be  checked,  we  are 
led  directly  to  an  inquiry  concerning  the  vigour  and  effi- 
ciency of  that  Living  Power  of  Rebuke,  whence  it  is  to 
receive  its  counteraction. 


XV. 
THE  POWER  OF  REBUKE. 

"  ffthou  take  forth  the  precious  from  the  vile,  thou  shall  lie  as  my  mouth  . 
and  J  vrill  make  thee  unto  the  people  a  defenced  brazen  vail" 


IT  is  by  the  gracious  words  of  Divine  Mercy  that  the 
hearts  of  men  are  to  be  subdued :  these  must  always 
be  the  prime  means  of  affecting  and  vanquishing  the 
impenitent.  The  human  mind  is  framed  to  be  influenced 
far  more  by  hope  and  tenderness,  than  by  terror  and 
rebuke.  This  great  truth  may  be  assumed  as  one  that  is 
fully  established,  and  universally  confessed. 

But  the  Christian  ministry  includes  also  an  office  of 
commination ;  and  if  the  messengers  of  Heaven,  when 
they  go  forth  among  outcasts  and  strangers,  who,  in  utter 
ignorance  of  God,  have  gone  far  astray  from  virtue,  are 
to  speak  much  more  of  mercy  than  of  wrath;  it  is  also 
true  that,  when  they  stand  up  among  those  who,  being 
well  informed  in  matters  of  religion,  use  the  grace  of  the 
Gospel  to  palliate  their  vices,  it  is  especially  the  message 
of  wrath,  which  they  are  called  upon  to  proclaim.  The 
abusers  of  the  Gospel  are  not  to  be  treated  as  men  theo- 
logically wrong ;  but  in  the  ostensible  and  common 
character,  of  Evil  Doers,  and  open  contemners  of  the  aw- 
ful authority  of  Heaven. 

In  what  spirit  then,  and  from  what  inward  force  shall 
this  difficult  duty  be  discharged — we  proceed  to  inquire. 
The  tendency  of  the  Christian  ministry  is  always  to  move 
down  from  the  high  and  arduous  place  which  belongs  to 


THE  POWER  OP  REBUKE.  191 

it,  of  a  Remedial  Function,  to  the  lower  and  more  grate- 
ful position  of  an  office  of  delectation  ;— either  intellectual, 
or  spiritual,  Wherever  much  refinement  and  good  taste 
prevail,  the  preacher  is  likely  to  become  the  organ  of  that 
species  of  grave  and  graceful  entertainment  which  beseems 
"  the  Sunday  ;"  arid  so  long  as  he  keeps  in  view  the  rule 
which,  by  a  tacit  compact,  he  is  bound  to  observe — that  of 
furnishing  an  hour  of  pleasurable,  meditative  excitement; 
he  may  take  a  wide  range,  as  to  style  and  subject : — he 
may  be  argumentative  or  imaginative  ;  epigrammatic  and 
familiar,  or  lofty  and  ornate  : — he  may  assume  a  low 
position,  or  a  high  one,  in  theology  : — he  may  be  emble- 
matical, or  literal ;  mystical  and  profound,  or  neological 
and  perspicuous  :  the  wide  world  is  all  before  him,  so  that 
he  is  but  skilful  in  gathering  blooming  flowers  always 
from  the  surface  over  which  he  passes.  But  how  shall 
any  such  honeyed  lips  utter  (except  as  matters  of  gorgeous 
eloquence)  the  appalling  verities  of  Divine  Justice  ?  Na- 
ture forbids  the  incongruity  :  and  more — The  Renovating 
Spirit  refuses  to  yield  the  energy  of  His  power  to  the  sway 
of  a  mere  minister  of  public  recreation. 

If,  as  is  a  far  more  frequent  case,  intelligence  and  taste 
be  wanting  in  the  preacher's  circle,  he  must  learn  to 
furnish  spiritual,  instead  '  of  intellectual  entertainment; 
such  as  may  be  drawn  from  the  conceits  and  ingenuities 
of  mystic  exposition — from  the  enigmas  and  tropes  of  the 
Rabbinical  school ;  or  from  the  soothing  adulation  which, 
after  painting  in  the  brightest  colours  the  honours  and 
privileges  of  the  believer,  allows  professors  of  all  sorts  to 
appropriate  the  fulsome  description.  There  may,  it  is  true, 
be  heard  frcm  the  pulpits  of  this  class  of  preachers,  much 
louder  and  more  frequent  thunders  than  roll  from  those  of 
the  intellectual  class.  But  the  peals  of  wrath,  though 


192  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

often  hoarse,  are  directed  always  at  some  distant  adversa- 
ry ; — at  opponents  of  the  sect ; — or  at  mankind  at  large  ; 
or  at  the  occupiers  of  the  high  seats  of  secular  greatness  : 
— but  never,  or  very  rarely,  at  the  impure,  the  unjust,  the 
rapacious,  the  malicious,  who  may  be  filling  the  pews 
around.  A  vigorous  and  impartial  application  of  the  law 
of  God,  backed  by  its  tremendous  sanctions,  to  the  conduct 
and  temper  of  the  preacher's  audience,  would  break  up  his 
method  ; — violate  his  tacit  compact,  and  turn  at  once  the 
whole  tide  of  his  popularity. 

The  preacher  whom  we  designate  the  spiritual  (in  the 
want  of  a  term  which  might  better  distinguish  him  from 
the  intellectual)  surrenders  his  last  means  of  arousing  the 
drowsy,  inebriate  conscience  of  the  dissolute  religionist, 
when  (as  often  happens)  he  takes  his  standing  within  the 
line  of  the  old  metaphysical  theology.  Upon  that  circle 
of  crude  and  audacious  logic,  where  hoary  sophistry  sets 
at  defiance  Scripture,  reason,  and  charity,  even  the  most 
ingenious  minds  quickly  lose  all  their  simplicity,  and  the 
most  sensative  all  their  compunction.  To  enter  this  school, 
where  nature  is  trampled  on,  and  torn,  is  to  lay  down 
humanity ;  and  to  take  up  the  most  amazing  sort  of  MEN- 
TAL INDURATION  of  which  the  world  has  ever  seen  ex- 
amples. The  assertion  may  be  hazarded,  that  a  long 
course  of  profane  and  reckless  sensuality,  does  not  more 
effectually  obliterate  from  the  heart  its  native  awe  of  the 
Divine  Authority,  or  its  reverence  for  the  justice,  sanctity, 
and  power  of  God,  than  does  a. thorough  initiation  in  the 
brazen  abstractions  of  the  antique  logical  theology.  Men 
and  their  systems  are  always  to  be  thought  of  apart. — A 
man,  when  on  the  ground  of  his  system,  is  commonly 
found  altogether  a  different  being  from  what  he  is  on  the 
walks  of  common  life.  To-day,  and  at  home,  he  is  per- 


THE  POWER  OP  REBUKE.  193 

haps  sensative  and  kind-hearted  : — to-morrow,  and  in  his 
officials,  he  speaks  of  the  awful  justice  of  the  Supreme,  and 
of  its  consequences,  with  the  grave  indifference,  the  mon- 
otony, and  levity,  of  one  who,  though  he  has  the  human 
form  and  tongue,  possesses  neither  conception  of  what  he 
utters,  nor  the  feelings  of  our  nature. 

How  strange  is  the  power  of  accustomed  phrases  to 
conceal  from  the  mind  the  ideas  they  are  intended  to  con- 
vey !  This  narcotic  reaction  of  language  upon  the  under- 
standing is,  in  truth,  a  disadvantage  common  to  the  race, 
and  for  which  allowance  should  be  made  on  many  partic- 
ular occasions  : — the  inward  sentiments  of  men  are  neither 
to  be  condemned,  nor  approved,  in  strict  accordance  with 
the  obvious  import  of  the  conventional  phrases  they  em- 
ploy. Yet  does  it  behove  public  men  to  be  aware  of  the 
indurating  effect  of  words,  when  digested  into  constant 
forms,  and  when  sanctioned  by  immemorial  usage ;  and 
they  should  continually  endeavour  to  break  up,  what  may 
be  called,  the  mental  incrustations  which  are  always 
spreading  themselves  over  the  sensative  surface  of  the  soul. 
This  is  most  especially  necessary  in  reference  to  those 
matters  wherein  the  drowsy  formalities  of  language  tend 
directly  to  augment  that  stupifying  influence  that  belongs 
to  all  vicious  indulgences.  A  mind  already  rendered  cal- 
lous by  sensuality,  receives,  every  week,  a  new,  and  again 
a  new  insensibility,  from  the  heavy  monotonies  of  the 
pulpit.  How  would  both  speaker  and  hearer  be  startled, 
if  the  former  were,  on  a  sudden,  compelled  to  pause,  and 
to  translate  into  plain  and  colloquial  terms,  the  appalling 
affirmations  which  have  just  been  gliding  unnoticed  from 
his  lips ! 

Nothing  (it  need  hardly  be  said)  is  gained  on  the  side 
18 


194  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

of  good  morals,  when  the  theological  stupor  of  which  we 
have  now  spoken,  is  exchanged  for  the  vehemence  of  a 
bad  ambition  to  stimulate,  by  terrors,  the  dull  ear  of  the 
multitude.  Nor  can  we  hope  any  better  effect  from  the 
rancour  of  the  sincere  fanatic — malign  spirit  !  -that  finds  its 
home,  and  seems  to  revel  in  the  awful  scenes  of  future 
punishment;  and  coolly  drives  its  car — curious  and  at 
ease,  through  the  regions  of  perdition  !  Though  the  in- 
stances are  rare,  there  have  actually  been  minds  by  which 
the  place  of  retribution  has  been  looked  upon  as  a  field  of 
triumph !  the  lost  regarded  as  fallen  foes,  who  might  be 
trampled  on  and  mocked,  and  to  which  the  sinner,  much 
rather  than  sin,  is  the  object  of  hatred  ! 

It  is  beneath  the  roar  of  some  such  fanatical  rancour, 
or  in  sound  of  the  boltless  thunders  of  the  mere  man  of 
rhetoric,  or  it  is  upon  the  bewitched  circle  of  scholastic 
theology,  that  the  licentious  religionist  enjoys  his  profound- 
est  sleep.  All  men  feel  instinctively,  that  there  is  nothing 
of  substance,  nothing  of  sincerity,  nothing,  in  a  word, 
which  need  cause  serious  alarm,  in  either  the  virulence  of 
the  one  declaimer,  or  the  profundities  and  sublimities  of 
the  other. 

Every  part  of  the  duty  of  the  minister  of  religion  is 
more  easy  than  to  maintain,  in  vigour  and  purity,  the 
spirit  he  needs  as  The  Reprover  of  Sin,  and  guardian  of 
virtue.  It  is  easy  to  teach  the  articles  of  belief,  and  easy 
to  illustrate  the  branches  of  Christian  ethics  ;  it  is  easy  to 
proclaim  the  Divine  mercy  :  and  easy  to  meet  and  assuage 
the  fear  and  sorrows  of  the  feeble  and  afflicted.  But  to 
keep  in  full  activity  the  POWER  OF  REBUKE,  demands 
moral  qualities  of  the  rarest  sort.  It  is  utterly  fruitless  to 
turn  from  side  to  side  in  search  of  substitutes  for  these  quali- 


THE  POWER  OF  REBUKE. 

ties.  The  preacher  may,  for  example,  avail  himself  of 
abstract  demonstrations,  by  which  to  vindicate  the  unalter- 
able rigour  of  the  Divine  government ;  and  he  may  prove 
irrefragably,  that  the  Supreme  Ruler  of  the  moral  system 
can  never  pass  over  transgression  ;  but  must  needs  exact 
the  appointed  penalty,  either  from  the  transgressor  or  from 
his  Substitute.  The  erudite  argument,  for  any  substantial 
effect  it  will  produce,  might  as  well  have  related  to  the  mo- 
tions of  the  planets.  Or  feeling  the  incongruity  of  abstruse 
reasoning,  when  addressed  to  the  commonalty  of  man- 
kind, he  musters  the  means,  and  brings  together  all  the 
resources  of  eloquence.  He  is,  in  turns,  descriptive,  pathet- 
ic, indignant ;  he  flames ;  he  weeps ;  he  astounds  the 
hearer,  by  the  prodigious  accumulation  of  his  terms  and 
figures  of  terror.  Idle  labour  !  Even  while  the  walls  are 
ringing  with  these  sounds  of  alarm,  the  covetous  man,  in 
his  corner,  is  mentally  counting  his  gold  : — the  eye  of  the 
vain  and  prurient  is  darting  from  object  to  object  of  illicit 
attraction  : — the  envious  and  malign  is  brooding  on  new 
calumnies,  to  be  propagated  at  the  church  door  : — the  am- 
bitious is  plotting  the  destruction  of  his  rival ;  and  the 
fraudulent  and  rapacious  are,  in  cogitation,  stretching  the 
net  for  the  feet  of  the  unwary.  And  yet  every  rule  of  the 
most  approved  systems  of  rhetoric  has  been  observed  ;  yes, 
and  every  intelligent  hearer  goes  away  ama-zed  at  the  skill 
and  power  of  the  preacher :  and  this  preacher  toOj  was 
sincere  in  his  endeavours  ! 

Ah  !  but  to  speak  efficaciously  of  the  holiness  and  jus- 
tice of  Almighty  God,  and  of  its  future  consequences  ; — 
to  speak  in  modesty,  tenderness,  and  power,  of  the  ap- 
proaching doom  of  the  impenitent,  is  altogether  another 
matter ;  and  one  that  must  be  left  to  those  whose  spirits 


196  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

have  had  much  communion  with  the  dread  Majesty  on 
high.  As  the  punishment  of  sin  springs,  by  an  ineffable 
harmony,  from  the  first  principles  of  Divine  Nature,  and 
infringes  not  at  all  upon  Benevolence,  so  must  he  who 
would  rightly  speak  of  that  punishment,  have  attained  to 
a  far  more  intimate  perception  of  the  coincidence  of  holi- 
ness and  love,  than  language  can  convey,  or  than  can  be 
made  the  subject  of  communication  between  man  and 
man.  This  knowledge  belongs  entirely  to  the  inner 
circle  of  the  soul,  the  centre  which  the  rational  faculty 
does  but  imperfectly  penetrate  ;  it  is  a  sense  or  emotion 
of  the  immortal  essence :  it  is  conveyed  to  the  spirit  by 
the  Father  of  Spirits  ;  and  only  conveyed,  in  any  consi- 
derable degree,  where  much  meditation,  and  prayer,  and 
abstraction  from  earthly  passions,  opens  the  way  to  its  re- 
ception and  entertainment.  All  other  elements  of  devo- 
tional sentiment  may  lodge  in  the  heart  sooner  than  this. 
Hence  it  is  that,  on  this  point,  more  conspicuously  than  on 
any  other,  ordinary  teachers  are  in  fault ;  and  not  a  few, 
honest  to  themselves,  and  abhorrent  of  pretention  or  arti- 
fice, avoid,  almost  entirely,  a  subject  on  which  they  feel 
themselves  to  be  unprepared  to  speak  with  feeling  and 
energy. 

An  indispensable  qualification  for  the  vigorous  exercise 
of  the  Power  of  Rebuke,  by  the  Christian  minister,  is  such 
a  conviction  of  the  truth  of  Christianity,  as  shall  render 
him  proof  against  all  assaults  from  within,  and  from 
without.  And  is  there  not  reason  to  fear  that,  in  this 
qualification  multitudes  of  Christian  teachers  are  wanting  ? 
Every  one  who  has  reflected  maturely  upon  the  workings 
of  the  human  mind,  perceives  that,  whether  the  fact  be 
confessed  or  concealed — the  stress  of  the  controversy 


THE  POWER  OF  REBUKE.  197 

Concerning  the  divine  mission  of  Christ  depends  upon  the 
doctrine  of  future  punishment.  The  affirmations  of  our 
Lord  and  his  Apostles  on  this  subject,  though  they  fall  in 
with  the  smothered  forebodings  of  conscience,  in  every 
man's  bosom,  give  a  distinct  form  to  apprehensions  from 
which  the  mind  strives,  by  all  means,  if  possible,  to  escape; 
and  which  it  will  never  cordially  admit  until  the  moral 
faculties  be  rectified.  The  quarrel  of  the  world  with 
Christianity  comes  to  its  issue  upon  this  doctrine  of  future 
retribution.  And  as  often  as  any  mind  recedes  from  the 
spirituality  of  its  perceptions,  it  falls  back  upon  this  disa- 
greement ;  and  at  such  times,  if  the  argumentative 
conviction  of  the  truth  of  Christianity  be  imperfect,  the 
darkness  and  perplexity  of  scepticism  will  come  in  upon 
the  soul  like  a  flood. 

While  they  are  meditating,  at  ease,  upon  those  illumi- 
nated scenes  of  future  joy  which  the  Gospel  spreads  before 
us,  and  while  we  admit,  in  simplicity  of  heart,  the  conso- 
lations it  affords  us  amid  our  present  sorrows,  we  demand 
with  little  solicitude  the  reasons  of  our  faith.  Joy  and  hope 
are  emotions  indigenous  to  the  human  mind  ; — they  are 
so  because  they  belong  to  its  original  destiny,  which  was 
to  happiness ;  and  when  they  enter  the  soul  they  bring 
with  them  a  noble  disdain  of  suspicions.  But  the  very 
same  law  of  our  nature  which  makes  joy  and  hope  spon- 
taneous and  unsuspecting,  impels  us  to  doubt,  when  the 
dark  and  appalling  presentiments  of  conscience  are  authen- 
ticated. As  often  as  we  set  foot  upon  the  region  which  sin 
has  replenished  with  terrors,  we  have  need  of  all  the 
strength  we  can  derive  from  the  very  firmest  convictions. 

Fatal  to  his  influence  as  Reprover  of  Sin,  must  be  a 
lurking  scepticism  in  the  breast  of  the  public  teacher.  No 
care  will  avail  to  conceal  the  inward  misgiving  of  the 
18* 


198  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

mind  :  the  tongue  of  the  speaker  will  falter ;  and  the 
reserve — the  indecision — the  vagueness  of  his  manner  ; 
or,  still  more,  his  artificial  vehemence,  will  betray  the  secret 
of  his  doubts  ;  and  the  infection  of  these  doubts  will  pass 
into  the  heart  of  the  hearer,  and  will  serve  to  harden  each 
transgressor  in  his  impenitence. 

But  supposing  his  preliminary  convictions  to  be  firm 
there  is  then  another  feeling  of  which  the  minister  of  Re- 
ligion will  find  the  need,  when  he  labours  to  affect  the 
hearts  of  the  licentious  with  fear.  It  is  what  may  be 
termed — a  resolute  LOYALTY  to  the  Divine  administration. 
This  sentiment  is  in  some  measure  distinguishable  and 
separable  from  those  intimate  perceptions  of  which  just 
above  we  have  spoken.  It  rests  upon  the  rectitude  and 
perspicacity  of  the  understanding  ; — takes  its  force  from 
genuine  piety,  and  affection  to  truth  ;  and  is,  if  we  might 
so  speak,  a  robust  emotion,  less  liable  to  fluctuation  than 
some  that  are  of  a  more  exalted  kind.  It  was  in  the 
spirit  of  this  loyalty  that  the  father  of  the  faithful  said — 
"  Shall  not  the  Judge  of  all  the  earth  do  right  ?"  and  in 
his  question  assumed  the  conspicuous  certainty  of  the  af- 
firmative. It  was  in  the  same  spirit  that  the  royal  poet 
uttered  his  worthy  persuasion — "  I  know,  O  Lord,  that  all 
thy  judgments  are  right."  And  it  was  with  a  similar  force 
of  healthy  piety  that  Paul  exclaimed — "  Yea,  let  God  be 
true,  but  every  man  a  liar." 

This  loyalty  will  break  through  the  mazes  of  much 
sophistry  ;  will  support  the  servant  of  God  in  his  position, 
when  assailed  by  more  fallacies  than  he  is  able  at  the  mo- 
ment to  refute ;  and  will  strengthen  him  to  cleave,  even 
under  all  obloquies  and  embarrassments,  to  what  he  in- 
wardly and  firmly  knows  must,  in  the  end,  prove  itself 
the  better  cause. 


THE  POWER  OF  REBUKE.  199 

Not  less  necessary  to  the  minister  of  truth,  is  an  unaf- 
fected sensitive  compassion  towards  his  fellow-men — a 
compassion  of  that  efficient  kind  which  nothing  has  ever 
produced  in  the  world  but  the  Gospel.     The  servant  of 
heaven  can  execute  his  commission  only  so  far  as  he  gains 
access  to  the  human  heart ;  and  there  is  no  other  path  of 
access,  no  other  law  of   affinity,  no  sympathy,  but  that 
of  love.     The  rugged,  the  severe,  the  petulant,  will  in  vain 
arm  himself  with  thunder,  or  fill  his  mouth  with  impreca- 
tions ; — truth,  if  indeed  he  has  it  on  his  side,  retains  neither 
edge  nor  temper  in  his  hand.     By  such  stern  vindicators 
of  Divine  Justice  it  seems  to  be  forgotten  that  the  special 
reason  why  men  not  angels,  are  sent  to  preach  repentance, 
is,  that  the  proclamation  of  mercy  may  always  be  heard  in 
that  tone  of  tenderness  and  humiliation  which  it  naturally 
receives  when  it  issues  from  the  lips  of  one  who  himself 
has  sinned,  and  received  pardon.     The  benevolence  of 
angels,  is,  no  doubt,  perfect  in  its  kind  ;  but  the  compas- 
sions of  man  have  a  special  property,  which  imparts  pathos 
and  persuasion  to  the  awful  announcement  of  God's  dis- 
pleasure against  sin.     The  end  of  all  Reproof  is  Mercy. 
If  there  were  no  redemption  at  hand,  it  were  idle,  or  cruel, 
to  talk  of  Judgment.     But  the  Reprover  is  the  very  same 
as  the  herald  of  peace  ;  and  must  draw  his  arguments — 
whether  of  terror  or  entreaty,  from  his  own  blended  con- 
viction of  the  certainty  of  the  future  punishment,  and  the 
reality  of  the  means  of  escape. 

But  the  expulsion  of  licentiousness  from  the  Sanctuary 
of  religion,  includes  other  considerations,  to  which  attention 
may  well  be  given. 


XVI. 
STRENGTH  OF  THE  POWER  OF  REBUKE. 

11  HowbeU,  in  Understanding,  be  Men." 


CONTEMPT  of  common  sense  has  been  the  special  char- 
acteristic of  debauched  pietism  in  every  age :  hence,  of 
course,  an  indispensable  quality  in  the  Reprover  of  sucli 
evils,  is  much  of  that  prompt  and  vigorous  intelligence  to 
which  the  epithet  Good  Sense  is  applied. 

The  mystic  sophisms  wherein  religious  profligacy  wraps 
itself  are  better  cut  through  at  once,  than  removed  as  if 
they  were  entitled  to  respect.  Our  Lord,  with  a  vigour 
and  warmth  of  manner  that  were  unlike  his  ordinary 
style,  set  the  pattern  of  this  mode  of  dealing  with  dissolute 
hypocrisy,  when  he  assailed  the  Jewish  doctors  and  their 
vicious  casuistry.  £<  Fools  and  blind  !  how  can  ye  escape 
the  damnation  of  hell  ?"  The  whole  strain  of  the  Apos- 
tolic writings  bespeaks  the  same  manly  force,  in  scattering, 
as  at  a  blow,  the  pretences  of  sanctimonious  knavery. 
The  method  of  rabbinical  exposition,  which  consists  for 
the  most  part  in  the  constructions  of  evasions  whereby  the 
law  of  God  might  be  made  of  none  effect,  and  by  means 
of  which  a  corner  might  be  saved  for  every  sin,  within 
the  meaning  of  every  prohibition,  has  been  repeated,  age 
after  age,  with  variations.  But  the  masters  of  the  syna- 
gogue held  their  bad  honours  unrivalled,  until,  at  length, 
the  Jesuit  bore  away  the  palm  of  wicked  ingenuity.  Yet, 
even  under  the  hand  of  the  Jesuit,  the  refinements  of 
hypocrisy  did  not  reach  their  perfection  ;  and  it  remained 


STRENGTH  OF  THE  POWER  OF  REBUKE.  201 

to  be  shown  that  the  Spaniard  and  the  Italian  might,  in 
this  work,  be  outdone.  Both  have  actually  been  surpas- 
sed by  the  mystic  and  debauched  antinomian  of  our  day, 
who  has  given  incomparably  more  depth  and  force  of 
colour  to  the  doctrine  of  pious  impurity,  than  either  the 
Rabbi  or  the  Jesuit  had  dreamed  of. 

The  strength  of  the  Reformers  was  precisely  the 
strength  of  good  sense,  as  opposed  to  wiles,  and  doating 
inanities,  and  ingenious  knavery.  In  every  dispute 
between  them  and  the  Romish  doctors,  (if  we  subtract  its 
peculiar  terms,  and  nominal  subject,)  the  real  point  at 
issue  was  the  preservation  of  common  sense  in  the  world, 
or  its  destruction  : — the  controversy  was  between  corrupt 
refinements  in  the  theory  and  practice  of  religion,  on  the 
one  hand  ;  and  on  the  other,  the  perspicuous  demands  of 
right  reason.  The  Reformation  was  a  return  of  mankind 
to  integrity,  and  simplicity  of  understanding,  and  a  rejec- 
tion of  intellectual  subtlety,  imbecility  and  fraud. 

But  the  manly  vigour  of  the  Reformation  spent  itself  in 
a  century  ;  and  there  sprung  up  on  all  sides,  within  its 
circle,  various  repetitions  or  revivals  of  the  sacred  follies  of 
earlier  ages.  Some  other  of  these  follies  may  have  pro- 
duced as  great,  or  a  greater  amount  of  evil ;  but  not  one 
of  them  has  so  much  scandalized  the  Reformation  itself, 
or  so  much  vilified  Christianity,  or  has  indicated  nearly  so 
fearful  an  audacity,  as  that  which,  by  learned  argumenta- 
tion, has  taught  men  that  the  commands  and  prohibitions 
of  Scripture  are  nothing  more  than  mythic  revelations  of 
Gospel  mysteries,  which  it  would  be  a  childish  symplicity 
to  understand  in  their  grammatical  sense ;  and  still  more 
absurd  practically  to  regard  in  that  sense. 

The  angry  controversies,  with  their  jargon  and  empty 
profundity,  which  raged  in  protestant  countries  at  the 


202  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

time  of  the  Reformation,  and  downward,  though  they 
called  upon  the  stage  of  the  church  much  intellectual 
power,  transmitted  to  the  next  century — not  that  power 
(which  seemed  to  have  been  all  spent  in  the  conflict)  but 
what  may  be  termed  a  preparative  of  theological  perversity 
which  opened  the  way,  or  made  smooth  the  path,  for  the 
advance  of  the  antinomian  heresy.  The  understandings 
of  the  sons,  it  might  be  imagined,  inherited  the  exhaustion 
and  the  debility  which  naturally  succeeded  to  the  excite- 
ment that  had  maddened  the  fathers. 

Perhaps  no  occurrence  recorded  in  the  history  of  human 
nature — none  of  the  ancient  whims  or  enormities  of 
superstition,  is  more  truly  amazing  than  what  we  have 
seen  take  place,  during  the  last  seventy  years,  among  our- 
selves. The  case  deserves  to  be  distinctly  stated  in  its 
peculiar  circumstances.  The  English  people,  compared 
with  their  neighbours,  may  fairly  claim  the  praise  of  sound- 
ness and  vigour  of  understanding,  and  of  much  practical 
deference  to  truth.  The  course  of  events,  moreover,  has 
tended  in  a  remarkable  degree,  both  to  excite  the  mental 
faculties  to  strenuous  exercise,  and  to  bring  idle  and  absurd 
speculations,  of  all  kinds,  into  contempt.  It  is  by  such  a 
people  that  the  Scriptures  are  received,  and  diligently 
studied.  And  what  is  the  prominent  character  of  these 
Sacred  Writings  ?  Even  if  it  were  granted  that,  in  their 
mode  of  revealing  certain  articles  of  faith,  or  in  their  allusion 
to  subjects  of  polity  and  ceremony,  such  a  degree  of 
obscurity  attaches  to  them  as  calls  for  industry  and  learn- 
ing in  the  interpreter  ;  it  is  not  less  true  that,  in  whatever 
relates,  either  to  the  great  principles  whence  virtue  should 
emanate,  or  to  the  detail  of  virtues  and  the  vices  —  to  the 
application  of  general  rules  to  particular  relations,  or  occa- 
sions, the  inspired  writers  leave  nothing  to  be  desired,  oc 


STRENGTH  OP  THE  POWER  OF  REBUKE.          203 

even  imagined,  in. the  way  of  perspicuity,  definitiveness 
iteration,  or  diversified  expression,  and  exemplification. 
Considered  merely  as .  a  book  of  morality,  the  Bible  is 
incomparably  a  more  complete,  intelligible,  and  popular 
Manual,  than  any  other  composition.  In  this  respect, 
though  the  teacher  may  find  room  for  the  enforcement  of 
rules,  he  is  scarcely  at  all  called  upon  to  exercise  his  skill 
as  expositor.  The  Bible,  in  the  plain  matters  of  duty,  of 
temper,  and  of  social  behaviour,  comes  home  at  once  to 
the  understanding  of  the  rudest  part  of  mankind  ;  and  is 
very  nearly  the  same  book  to  the  peasant,. as  to  the  doctor 
of  divinity.  And  yet  this  is  the  volume  which  a  portion 
of  the  most  sober  people  in  Europe  has  actually  transmut- 
ed into  a  collection  of  sacred  riddles  ;  and  has  robbed,  in 
the  most  absolute  manner,  of  the  whole  of  its  force  or 
application,  as  a  divine  directory  of  the  conscience  and 
conduct  of  men !  '  The  Bible,'  said  they,  '  affirms  no- 
thing— or  nothing  which  is  significant  to  Christians,  on 
points  of  justice,  temperance,  purity,  charity,  meekness. 
Whatever  it  seems  to  say  on  these  subjects,  is  in  truth 
(under  the  guise  of  a  divine  trope  or  apologue)  addressed 
to  those  who  have  become  spiritually  wise  to  discern  the 
mystery  beneath  the  letter  of  the  written  word.' 

This,  with  the  variations,  and  palliations,  and  fraud- 
ulent subterfuges,  is  the  substance  of  that  delusion  which 
has  spread  through  the  religious  body  in  all  directions,  and 
has  to  boast  among  its  adherents,  not  merely  crowds  of 
simple  and  vulgar,  but  more  than  a  few  of  the  rich  and 
the  educated  ;  and  has  been  defended  by  erudition  and  elo- 
quence !  -Such  is  the  human  mind,  even  when  enjoying 
the  most  signal  advantages,  if  once  it  severs  itself  from 
common  sense,  and  falls  under  the  influence,  either  of  some 
dream  of  intellectual  bliss,  or  of  the  soft  and  yet  impetuous 
force  of  voluptuous  desires  ! 


204  SATURDAY  .EVENING. 

Shall  we  then  labour  to  dissipate  delusions  such  as 
these  by  the  method  of  scholastic  argumentation  ?  Shall 
we  be  learned  and  acute  in  our  refutations  of  them? 
The  man  who  would  proceed  in  such  a  manner  is  simple 
as  a  child  ;  or  has  himself  already  inhaled  a  debilitating 
influence  from  a  poisoned  atmosphere.  On  the  ground 
of  theory  and  speculation,  the  victims  of  such  errors  will 
be  found  to  have  lost  irrecoverably  the  power  of  distin- 
guishing truth  from  falsehood :  the  faculties  of  the  under- 
standing are  all  in  solution,  and  no  longer  affect  one  the 
other,  according  to  the  laws  of  the  rational  constitution : 
the  mind  does  not  float  on  the  surface  of  intelligible  notions, 
where  it  might  be  detained,  or  steered  towards  the  hemis- 
phere of  light ;  but  it  plunges  vaguely  hither  and  thither, 
in  the  profoundest  depths  of  night, — to  reason  and  to 
knowledge  it  is  lost. 

Yet,  as  we  have  said,  Conscience  is  not  extinguished  ; 
and  a  hope  of  recovery  remains  with  the  possibility  of 
suddenly  arousing  this  conservative  power  by  the  direct 
means  of  applying  to  each  particular  instance  of  immoral- 
ity the  Divine  denouncements  of  future  retribution,  with 
all  the  appalling  descriptions  which  the  Scriptures  furnish. 
Experience  has  abundantly  proved  that  such  awakening 
declarations,  when  addressed  to  the  untaught  profligacy 
of  the  mass  of  mankind,  and  when  accompanied  with  the 
exhibition  of  mercy,  have,  in  innumerable  instances,  prov- 
ed eflicacious.  It  is  indeed  granted  that  the  moral  and 
intellectual  condition  of  the  licentious  religionist  is  far  more 
complicated  and  desperate  than  that  of  the  ordinary  trans- 
gressor ;  yet  it  must  not  be  deemed  absolutely  hopeless. 

Nevertheless  it  is  manifest  that  so  peculiar  an  infatua- 
tion demands  an  extraordinary  vigour  in  the  instrument 
employed  to  effect  its  removal ;  and  having  already  advert- 


STRENGTH  OP  THE  POWER  OP  REBUKE.  205 

ed  to  some  general  causes  which  tend,  either  to  corobo- 
rate  or  to  enfeeble  this  instrument,  we  have  now  to  consid- 
er some  of  a  more  specific  kind.  Whoever  would  over- 
throw subtle  casuistry,  must  be  clear  from  the  charge  of 
ever  having  recourse  to  it  himself.  We  must  know  no 
style  but  that  of  intrepid  honesty,  if  we  would  at  all  use 
it  with  advantage  ;  and  we  shall  fail  in  the  attempt  (with- 
out suspecting  the  cause  of  our  own  defeat)  to  speak  with 
firmness  and  authority,  as  men,  and  as  the  servants  of 
God,  to  one  class  of  opponents,  if,  when  called  upon  to 
address  some  other  class,  we  find  it  necessary  to  descend 
from  that  lofty  position,  and  to  subtilize,  to  avail  ourselves 
of  the  tricks  of  controversy,  to  be  adroit,  disingenuous,  in- 
genious ; — to  evade  conclusive  arguments  by  wit,  or  vio- 
lence ;  and  to  conceal,  beneath  a  many-coloured  cloak  of 
idle  declamation,  that  which,  if  exposed  to  view,  we  should 
be  ashamed  to  call  our  own. 

The  highly  difficult  work  of  reclaiming  the  infatuated 
religionist  demands  a  simplicity  of  mind,  which  must  un- 
fit a  man  for  the  delicate  task  of  recommending  and  palli- 
ating the  dogmas  and  practices  (entire)  of  a  party — let  that 
party  be  as  pure  as  it  may.  When,  in  obedience  to  certain 
maxims  of  policy  or  discretion  (which,  however  learnedly 
excused,  fall  immeasurably  short  of  true  wisdom)  we  step 
forward  as  the  apologists  of  things  that  all  right-minded 
men  feel  (whether  they  say  so  or  not)  to  be  utterly  inde- 
fensible, we  sever  the  nerve  of  our  moral  and  intellectual 
strength,  by  the  very  act.  No  expectation  can  be  more 
egregious  than  that  of  finding  ourselves  men  to-morrow, 
if  we  must  be  sophists  to-day.  There  is  a  law  of  contin- 
uity, of  homogeneity,  in  the  human  mind ; — there  is  an 
equalizing  of  powers,  which  makes  it  take  its  permanent 
character  from  the  humiliations  to  which  at  any  time  it 

19 


206  SATURDAY  EVEiNLVO. 

submits,  and  which  demands  that  it  shall  go  to  its  place 
on  the  scale  of  dignity  and  power,  not  according  to  the 
highest  elevation  it  ever  reaches,  or  may  aspire  to,  nor 
even  midway  between  the  highest  and  the  lowest  point ; 
but  near  to  lowest.  Spontaneously  and  consciously  to 
submit  to  degradation,  even  for  an  hour,  is  for  ever  to  be 
degraded. 

We  need  not  then  be  much  amazed  if,  in  looking  abroad 
over  the  Christian  community,  we  see,  in  some  quarters, 
the  authority  of  God  and  the  dictates  of  common  sense  set 
at  defiance,  notwithstanding  the  faithful,  and  laborious, 
and  perhaps  intelligent  endeavours  of  worthy  and  able  men 
to  put  the  contumacious  to  silence.  The  truth,  probably, 
is  that  these  good  and  sincere  men  have  surrendered,  in 
some  manner,  the  fulness  of  their  integrity  and  energy. 
The  evil  they  are  contending  with  is  too  ponderous  to  be 
moved  by  the  shoulders  that  are  set  to  it.  To-day,  you 
find  them  zealously  protesting  against  the  sophistries  of 
sin ;  but  yesterday,  perhaps,  they  were  performing  some 
needful  service  for  the  interests  of  the  party  they  stand 
connected  with ;  and  there  is  no  religious  party  that  has 
not  work  to  perform  in  which  no  man  can  engage  and 
come  forth  as  he  went  into  it. 

*  It  is  asked  (vauntingly  by  some  persons)  u  What  is  the 
great  evil  of  our  religious  diversities,  seeing  that  the  mat- 
ters in  debate  are  comparatively  unimportant?''  Alas  !  it 
is  this  very  non-importance  of  the  controversies  that  di- 
vide the  church,  which  imparts  to  them  their  debilitating 
influence  on  the  minds  of  Christians.  So  long  as  men 
disagree  on  questions  of  great  moment,  they  will  continue 
to  be  men  ;  though  they  may  be  injuriously  inflamed. 
But  allow  them  to  divide  and  to  wrangle  on  trifles,  and 
all  infallibly  will  become  frivolous.  Nothing  can  arrest 


STRENGTH  OF  THE  POWER  OP  REBUKE.     207 

this  consequence. — A  century  of  foolish  discord  will  be 
found  enough  to  dissipate  all  the  force  of  mind  which  the 
bounty  of  nature  may,  in  that  period,  have  afforded  to  the 
service  of  the  Church. 

Let  it  then  be  impartially  asked,  whether  the  existing 
divisions  which  keep  asunder  the  body  of  true  Christians, 
have  not  a  direct  influence  in  withdrawing  from  that  body 
the  internal  vigour  which  should  enable  it  to  throw  off 
the  enormous  evils  that  infest  it. 

Bnt  there  are  milder  forms  of  religious  laxity,  the  growth 
of  which  demands  some  notice. 

In  every  religious  circle  there  exists  and  grows  (it  is  to 
be  feared)  a  sad  amount  of  immorality  in  conduct,  or  tem- 
per, under  favour  of  that  indefinite,  and  drowsy  mode  of 
enforcing  the  preceptive  part  of  religion,  which  is  too  com- 
mon. The  Law  and  the  Gospel,  divinely  wedded  pair, 
have  been  lamentably  divorced  among  us.  Under  one 
sacred  roof  the  Commandments  are  spoken  of  as  if  they 
comprised  the  whole  of  God's  message  to  man  ;  while, 
under  another,  the  Gospel  imposes  silence  upon  the  Com- 
mandments. The  result,  though  different  in  appearance, 
is  substantially  the  same  : — the  hearers  in  the  one  case 
continue  in  their  sins,  because  they  are  furnished  with 
none  of  the  motives  of  spiritual  life  ;  and  in  the  other,  be- 
cause they  are  left  to  expound  the  code  of  Christian  duty 
in  their  own  way  ;  or  are  allowed  to  forget  it  altogether. 

It  is  true,  that  both  these  preachers  make  occasional 
allusion  to  the  class  of  truths  which  each  ordinarily  neg- 
lects. The  first  speaks  of  the  free  provisions  of  the  Gospel 
very  much  in  the  manner  of  the  debtor,  who  mentions 
his  obligation  in  the  presence  of  his  creditor ;  or  as  the 
culprit  speaks  of  the  evidence  which  convicts  him  ;  or  as 
the  proud  man  confesses  his  dishonour,  or  the  ambitious 


208  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

man  his  overthrow.  But  never  does  he  utter  himself 
cordially  on  subjects  of  this  kind ;  and  never  to  the 
smallest  discernible  good  purpose. 

And  it  is  much  in  the  same  manner  that  the  preacher 
of  grace  (too  often)  while  he  grants  that  personal  virtue  is 
a  proper  and  -indeed  necessary  accompaniment  of  faith  ; 
and  while  once  and  again  he  declares,  that  '  holiness 
should  be  the  fruit  of  pardon,'  makes  this  declaration  the 
beginning  and  the  ending  of  his  exposition  of  the  ethical 
portions  of  the  Scriptures.  What  this  '  holiness'  implies 
or  contains,  none  can  tell  you  :  or  if  they  can  tell,  they 
have  not  been  taught  that  the  parts  of  it  are  indispensable 
to  the  constitution  of  the  whole  ;  or  that  it  can  exist  only 
by  the  presence  of  every  one  of  its  parts.  Even  if  an  in- 
direct inference  from  the  preacher's  doctrine  does  not  belie 
its  bald  affirmations  in  favour  of  virtue,  they  pass  upon  the 
drowsy  ear  of  the  sensual,  the  malignant,  or  the  fraudulent 
as  a  mere  pulpit  usage — an  Amen,  or  a  Gloria,  which  is 
to  come  in  at.  a  pause  ;  but  which  no  one  heeds. 

Truly  it  is  not  by  the  use  of  certain  abstract  phrases, 
just  where  the  symmetry  of  the  discourse  may  seem  to  call 
for  them,  that  the  mass  of  mankind — inert,  corrupted,  and 
solicited  by  bad  passions,  and  bad  customs,  is  to  be  taught 
the  particulars  of  morality,  of  self-command,  truth,  and 
justice  ;  or  restrained  from  illicit  indulgences.  It  is  not  in 
any  such  vague  and  listless  style  that  flagrant  offenders 
are  to  be  put  to  open  shame :  it  is  not  thus  that  secret 
transgressors  are  to  be  brought  out  from  their  conceal- 
ments ;  nor  thus  that  the  wavering  purpose  of  the  young 
is  to  be  determined  to  the  better  side,  or  fortified  by  the 
recollection  of  judgment  against  the  hour  of  temptation. 
Nor  is  it  thus,  in  a  word,  that  a  vivid  and  abiding  sense  of 
the  awful  majesty  of  God,  and  of  the  exact  rectitude  of 


STRENGTH  OF  THE  POWER  OF  REBUKE.  209 

bis  government,  is  to  be  maintained  in  the  minds  of  the 
people.  There  are,  it  is  true,  in  every  congregation,  a  few 
individuals — two  or  three,  perhaps,  in  a  hundred,  whose 
private  meditations,  and  whose  serious  study  of  the  Scrip- 
tures, may,  in  great  measure,  supply  to  themselves  the 
deficiencies  of  public  instruction.  But  it  is  certain  that  the 
morals  of  the  mass  of  the  people  will  correspond  very 
nearly  with  what  is  done  by  their  teachers  to  inform  them 
in  the  principles  of  virtue. 

One  who  is  well  acquainted  with  human  nature — who 
knows  its  infirmity,  its  inconsistency,  its  laxity  of  purpose, 
its  proneness  to  admit  the  illusions  of  passion  and  self-love, 
must  shudder  when  he  finds  in  what  way  certain  congre- 
gations are  entertained,  year  after  year,  with  topics  that 
scarcely  at  all  affect  the  conscience :  they  are  made  theo- 
logians, perhaps  ;  or  they  are  moved  to  emotion  ;  or  they 
are  impelled  to  take  their  part  in  ostensible  works  of  mercy : 
but  "  the  great  matters  of  the  law"  are  hidden  from  their 
eyes ;  and  multitudes,  without  any  deliberate  purpose  of 
abusing  the  grace  of  God  to  licentiousness,  without  any 
extraordinary  impulsion  towards  vicious  practices,  slide 
unconsciously  into  whatever  evil  most  solicits  them  ; — 
because  their  minds  are  fortified  by  no  explicit  warning 
and  are  unfurnished  with  any  definite  principles  of 
conduct. 

We  say,  a  wise  and  considerate  man  will  be  fain  to 
make  his  escape  from  such  a  scene  of  things,  sorrowfully 
exclaming  •--"  Surely,  THE  FEAR  OF  GOD  is  not  in  this 
place  !" 

19* 


XVII. 
THE   RECLUSE. 

-"  Add  to  Godliness,  Brotherly  Kindness." 


THE  principle  of  the  Apostolic  injunction  may  be  thug 
expressed — '  Genuine  piety  is  social  ;  and  this  social 
piety  is  not  affection  to  a  party  ;  but  universal  love  !' 

There  is,  perhaps,  no  order  of  sentiments  which  reason 
cannot  approve,  and  which  Christianity  condemns,  that 
more  strongly  recommends  itself  as  innocent  and  excellent, 
than  that  of  a  secluded  meditative  piety.  We  speak  not, 
of  course,  of  the  morose  and  misanthropic  spirit  of  the 
ascetic  ;  but  of  that  milder  sort  of  anchoretic  religion 
which,  Vvithout  admitting  any  particle  of  ill-will  towards 
mankind,  leads  the  subject  of  it  to  withdraw  himself  from 
society,  that  he  may  drink,  without  interruption,  of  the 
still  stream  of  delight  that  springs  from  holy  contemplation. 

The  man  who  tastes,  in  a  high  degree,  the  pleasures  of 
abstracted  thought,  may  perhaps  owe  to  circ/u/i^fances 
something  of  the  perfection  of  enjoyment  he  attains  :  but 
he  must  have  received  his  primary  qualifications  from  na- 
ture. There  is  a  serenity — might  we  say  a  Icntitude  of 
the  physical  temperament ; — there  is  a  native  translucency 
of  mind  ; — there  is  a  correct  keeping  of  time — a  rhythm 
and  melody  in  the  movements  of  the  passions ; — there  is 
a  steady,  tranquil  flight  of  the  fancy  :  and  there  is  a  habit 
of  abstraction  (not  philosophical  but  imaginative)  which, 
altogether,  supply  to  the  mind  that  combines  them  a  far 
higher  and  more  constant  happiness  than  is  ever,  even 


THE  RECLUSE.  21 1 

under  the  most  favourable  circumstances,  to  be  drawn 
from  the  ordinary  external  sources  of  pleasure.  The  man 
of  meditation  is  happy,  not  for  an  hour,  or  a  day,  but  quite 
round  the  circle  of  his  years. 

As  there  are  powers  in  human  nature — faculties,  ration- 
al and  imaginative,  which  lie  dormant  while  man  contin- 
ues in  a  savage  state  ;  so  is  there  much  in  the  circle  of 
the  tranquil  emotions  which  does  not  come  at  all  into 
play,  and  is  absolutely  latent,  in  the  bosoms  of  the  mass  of 
mankind.  The  turbulent  and  turbid  possions,  and  the 
urgent  solicitudes  of  the  multitude,  allow  nothing  that  is 
not  vivid  and  importunate  to  gain  their  attention.  And  it 
is  so,  that  the  hidden  treasures  of  the  soul — the  secret 
delights  of  the  heart,  become  the  unenvied  portion  of  a 
few  meditative  spirits.  In  these,  the  intellectual  life  is 
quick  in  all  its  parts.  It  is  as  when  the  waters  of  a  lake 
are  suffered  to  deposit  their  feculence,  and  to  become  as 
pure  as  the  ether  itself;  so  that  they  not  only  reflect  from 
their  surface  the  splendour  of  heaven,  but  allow  the  curi- 
ous eye  to  gaze  delighted  upon  the  decorated  grottoes  and 
sparkling  caverns  of  the  depth  beneath. 

Or  might  we  say,  that  the  ground  of  the  human  heart 
is  thickly  fraught  with  seeds  which  never  germinate  under 
either  a  wintry,  or  a  too  fervent  sky  :  but  let  the  dew 
come  gently  on  the  ground,  and  let  mild  suns  warm  it, 
and  let  it  be  guarded  against  external  rudeness,  and  we 
shall  see  spring  up  a  garden  of  gaiety  and  fragrance. 
The  Eden  of  human  nature  has  indeed  long  ago  been 
trampled  down,  and  desolated  :  storms  waste  it  continual- 
ly : — nevertheless  the  soil  is  rich  with  the  germs  of  its 
pristine  beauty ; — all  the  colours  of  Paradise  are  sleeping 
in  the  clods  :  And  a  little  favour,  a  little  protection,  a  little 
culture,  show  what  once  was  there.  Or  if  \ve  look  at  the 


212  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

human  spirit  in  its  relation  to  futurity,  we  shall  acknow- 
ledge that,  as  an  immortality  of  joy  is  its  proper  destiny, 
so  is  it  moved  by  instincts  which  are  the  prognostics  of 
eternal  life.  But  earthly  passions  quench  these  forcscents 
of  happiness  :  meditation  fosters  them  ;  and  the  life  of 
the  religious  recluse  is  a  delicious  anticipation  of  those 
pleasures  that  shall  have  no  end. 

Yet  may  the  course  of  life  adopted  by  the  solitary  reli- 
gionist be  partially  excused  on  more  solid  ground. — Self- 
knowledge  is  the  chief  or  initial  part  of  true  wisdom. 
But  self-knowledge  is  the  result  of  an  analysis  that  never 
absolutely  reaches  simple  elements.  Let  human  motives 
be  examined  with  as  much  precision  as  may  be,  it  is  na- 
tural to  them  to  coalesce,  and  form  new  combinations  ; 
and  this  without  end  : — the  work  of  analysis  has  always 
to  be  renewed,  and  is  never  achieved. — Moreover  there  is 
a  high  sensibility  of  conscience  attending  the  diligent 
inspection  of  the  heart,  which  becomes  continually  more 
and  more  exquisite,  the  more  it  is  exercised  :  the  percep- 
tion of  good  and  evil  acquires  a  fineness  of  apprehension — 
a  power  of  discrimination,  such  as  incites  it  always  to 
advance  and  to  apply  itself  anew  to  every  circumstance  of 
the  moral  life.  This  vivid  and  ever-growing  sensitiveness 
therefore,  and  this  power  of  scrutiny,  find  full  occupation 
for  the  meditative  spirit,  and  seem  to  deny  it  time  or  liberty 
to  be  engaged  with  the  interest  of  the  common  world. 

We  may  advance  a  step  farther. — Religion,  or  the 
devotional  part  of  it,  is  nothing  else  but  the  communion 
of  the  soul  with  God  ;  and  therefore  by  its  necessary  con- 
dition is  seclusive.  There  is  no  piety  of  a  multitude. 
The  worship  of  a  congregation  is  the  worship  of  so  many 
hearts,  each  rendered  a  degree  more  fervent  than  other- 
wise by  the  power  of  sympathy.  But  if  the  elements  of 


THE  RECLUSE.  213 

worship  have  not  heen  brought  together  from  the  depth  of 
individual  spirits,  they  exist  not  at  all.  In  all  true  wor- 
ship, whether  the  scene  be  the  place  of  publick  convoca- 
tion, or  the  closet,  the  soul  brings  its  immortal  substance, 
and  its  personal  destiny,  and  its  particular  interest ;  its 
recollections — its  hope,  and  its  fears  ; — yes,  itself,  as  if  it 
were  the  only  created  existence,  or  in  oblivion  of  all  others, 
before  the  throne  of  God.  How  vivid  soever  may  be  the 
emotions,  that  spring  in  each  heart  from  its  sympathy 
with  others,  they  can  never  come  into  comparison  \\  ilh 
those  that  belong  to  its  own  ultimate  welfare.  In  the 
solitude  of  true  worship  the  human  spirit  avails  itself  of, 
and  confesses,  two  most  momentous  truths  ; — first  its  orig- 
inal homogeneity  with  the  Divine  Nature  ;  without  which 
there  could  be  no  communion  ;  since  none  but  like  things 
can  blend  :  and  secondly,  the  assumption  of  the  human 
nature  by  the  Divine,  in  the  person  of  the  Son  of  God ; 
which  is  the  only  means  and  medium  of  communion 
between  Heaven  and  earth.  Both  these  ineffable  doc- 
trines imply  that  the  soul  may  approach  so  near  to  the 
Majesty  on  high  as  to  forget  all  things  but  God  and  itself. 
The  habit  of  meditative  intercourse  with  Heaven  being 
once  formed,  and  its  expansion  also  favoured,  as  we  have 
supposed,  by  the  sensibility  of  the  imagination,  there  is 
opened  an  unbounded  field  of  delicious  contemplation,  in 
the  natural  world.  The  power  and  wisdom  of  the  Crea- 
tor are  indeed  vaguely  discerned,  and  formally  confessed, 
by  ordinary  rninds,  as  often. as  particular  specimens  of 
both  are  produced ;  but  the  man  addicted  to  devout 
meditation,  is  not  only  alive  to  such  indications  of  the 
Divinity,  at  all  times,  and  in  all  places ; — he  sees  in  them 
much  more  than  the  bare  attribute  of  which  the  instance 
before  him  yields  a  proof: — he  sees  there  (if  so  we  might 


214  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

speak)  the  entire  personality  of  the  Divine  Being,  with  all 
the  glories  of  his  moral  attributes;  for  the  habit  of  his 
soul  forbids  that  he  should  think  of  God  at  all  otherwise 
than  personally.  It  is  not  power,  and  wisdom,  and  bene- 
ficience,  abstractedly,  that  are  displayed  to  him  in  the 
visible  Creation  ;  but  rather  God  himself — his  Friend  and, 
Father.  Each  work  of  the  divine  hand  is  a  symbol, 
indicative  of  much  more  than  can  be  rigidly  demonstrated 
by  its  means.  The  tones  of  a  voice — a  voice  familiar — 
in  a  perpetual  melody,  fall  upon  his  ear,  as  he  walks 
among  the  creatures ;  and  whatever  emotion  may  be  then 
stirring  in  the  depth  of  his  soul,  is  ready  to  be  called  up 
by  these  celestial  notes. 

And  here  ought  to  be  noted  a  peculiarity  belonging  to 
the  habit  of  devout  meditation  upon  the  scenes  of  nature  ; 
— a  peculiarity  which  in  part  explains  the  fondness  of 
religious  recluses  for  wild  and  desolate  regions.  There  is 
a  purity,  or  abstinence,  in  the  tastes  of  the  man  of  medi- 
tation. He  by  no  means  desires  to  be  placed  in  the  midst 
of  the  gaudy  magnificence  of  nature,  before  he  can  fill  his 
soul  with  the  pious  ravishment  he  delights  in.  He  would 
not  even  if  he  might  choose,  walk  through  groves  of 
luscious  and  spicy  pleasure,  where  every  colour  and  every 
fragrance  satiates  the  sense.  He  does  not  covet,  as  his 
home,  a  valley  of  the  east,  where  the  sun  seems  to  linger 
and  shed  all  his  favours.  On  the  contrary,  he  would 
much  rather  draw  his  devout  inferences  from  the  slenderest 
or  most  modest  examples :  he  choses  to  dwell  upon 
instances  wherein  the  parsimony  of  nature  gives  the  larger 
space  to  the  diligence  of  rflection  ;  and  where  the  premi- 
ses are  always  less  obtrusive  than  the  conclusion.  Yes, 
it  is  most  true,  that  the  pious  contemplatist  finds,  in  the 
sear  herbage  of  the  wilderness,  and  finds,  on  the  rugged 


THE  RECLUSE.  215 

and  scorched  surface  of  granite  rocks,  symbols  enough  of 
God  ;  and  he  thinks  himself  richly  furnished  with  book, 
and  lesson,  and  teacher,  when  he  descries  on  his  solitary 
way,  only  a  blade  of  grass  ! 

Or  even  if  the  prospect  on  earth  be  absolutely  void  of 
life ;  the  skies  are  still  open  to  the  gaze  of  the  recluse ; 
and  are  they  not  laid  open  for  his  peculiar  benefit  ?  who 
but  himself  draws  thence  the  principles  of  divine  philoso- 
phy 1  who  else  renders  back,  as  he  does,  the  tribute  of 
praise  due  to  the  Infinite  Architect  ?  The  crowd  of  men 
see  not  God  in  the  stars  ;  and  hold  back  the  revenue  of 
deserved  adoration  which  the  heavens  challenge  for  their 
Maker.  But  the  meditative  man  separates  himself  from 
the  world  that  he  may  discharge  this  duty,  and  perform, 
on  the  behalf  of  others,  the  office  they  neglect.  The  mass 
of  men  could  hardly  be  more  sordid  than  they  are,  hardly 
more  reluctant  to  admit  ideas  of  greatness  and  power, 
hardly  more  dull  and  gross,  if  a  perpetual  screen  of 
vapours  concealed  entirely  from  our  knowledge  the  splen- 
dour of  the  universe. 

The  transition  is  easy  from  the  brightness  and  extent 
of  the  visible  heavens,  to  the  magnificence  and  stately 
array  of  the  invisible  world — the  intelligent  progeny  of  the 
Universal  Father.  The  conceits  of  a  puerile  fancy  ex- 
cluded, and  nothing  assumed  which  the  severest  reason 
ought  to  condemn,  or  which  Scripture  does  not  authenti- 
cate, the  meditative  mind  readily  finds  a  range  of  thought 
in  this  region,  such  as  may  at  least  compensate  for  the 
absence  of  all  the  earthly  pomps  which  empires  might 
bring  together. 

Nor  must  it  be  forgotten  that  there  are  circumstances  of 
a  humiliating  kind  in  the  actual  condition  of  man,  which 
tend  greatly  to  enhance  the  pleasures  of  the  solitary  life, 


216  SATURDAY  EVENING?. 

or  to  corroborate  the  purpose  of  the  recluse  in  his  separation 
from  the  world. — By  the  very  constitution  of  human 
nature  a  contrariety  exists  between  the  principles  of  the 
higher  and  lower  life — the  intellectual  and  the  animal, 
which,  though  it  may  be  gracefully  concealed  by  elegance 
of  manners,  aud  the  artificial  modes  of  civilized  life,  is 
never  absolutely  reconciled,  and  presses  always  as  an  an- 
noyance and  a  burden  upon  the  high-wrought  sensibilities 
of  serious  meditative  minds.  The  susceptibility  of  such 
minds  and  their  want  of  active  energy,  expose  them  pain- 
fully to  this  uneasiness.  Nor  can  they  avail  themselves 
of  the  aid  which,  in  the  gay  and  busy  world,  is  supplied 
by  levity  and  joyousness  and  the  velocity  of  affairs.  It  is 
not  so  much  the  pains,  and  wants,  and  heavier  wroes  of 
our  corporeal  nature,  as  its  humiliations,  which  afflict  the 
sensitive  recluse.  On  his  principles  and  with  his  habits 
of  feeling,  he  can  be  far  happier  amidst  sufferings  and  ne- 
cessities, than  when  solicited  and  disturbed  by  trivial  cares, 
or  ignoble  occupations.  For  the  former  impel  and  aid  him 
to  abstract  himself,  more  and  more,  from  the  body  : — the 
latter,  against  all  his  tastes,  implicate  him  in  its  meanness. 
To  hide  himself  from  the  world,  is  not,  it  is  true,  to 
escape  from  the  humiliations  of  the  body  :  nevertheless  it 
is  to  be  exempt  from  all  but  those  of  his  own  : — it  is  to  be 
free  from  the  annoyance  and  the  disgusts  of  that  vulgarity 
which,  in  the  world,  obtrudes  whatever  is  fleshly  upon 
observation.  The  recluse,  if  at  any  time  he  be  exposed 
to  the  grossness,  the  frivolity,  or  the  petulant  selfishness  of 
common  life,  recoils  with  impatience  ;  and,  with  an  eager 
preference,  embraces  anew  the  immunities  and  calm 
delights  of  his  cell.  There,  almost  forgetting  that  he  is  a 
tenant  of  mortality,  he  converses  with  perfection  and  in- 
finitude. Safe — safe,  with  the  pleasures  of  meditation  all 


THE  RECLUSE. 

his  own — pleasures  of  which  none  can  deprive  him  ;  he 
is  indifferent  to  all  things  else  ; — a  dungeon,  or  a  desert, 
is  to  him  a  paradise. 

A  sensibility  too  highly  excited,  and  which  has  become 
too  much  the  habit  of  the  mind,  distinguishes  the  recluse  ; 
and  this  again  impels  him,  with  an  inconsistency  he  can- 
not justify,  to  hide  himself  from  the  crowd  of  men,  and 
even  to  get  absolution  from  the  ties  of  private  affection : 
for  it  is  thus  only  that  he  can  be  exempt  from  the  pains 
of  excessive  sympathy.  Hence  it  happens  that  the  very 
man  whose  firm  persuasion  of  things  invisible  might  well 
give  him  serenity  amid  the  vicissitudes  of  the  present  life, 
exhibits  far  less  composure  than  those  often  do  who,  when 
they  lose  wealth,  and  friends,  and  reputation,  lose  abso- 
lutely all  which  they  have  ever  thought  of,  or  desired. 

But  perhaps  there  is  nothing  which  so  much  determines 
the  man  of  meditation  in  his  purpose  of  hiding  himself 
in  solitude,  as  that  spirit  of  rude  intrusiveness,  of  intoler- 
ance, and  of  dogmatism,  which  prevails  in  the  world,  and 
which,  moreover,  seems  often  to  draw  around  the  inoffen- 
sive and  modest,  and  to  make  such  their  sport  and  victim. 
It  is  the  peculiar  delight  of  vulgar  arrogance,  not  merely 
to  violate  the  substantial  rights  of  those  who  are  feeble  and 
unarmed  5  but  to  carry  their  practice  of  invasion — if  it  be 
possible,  into  the  very  souls  of  men.  To  rule  in  the 
visible  and  tangible  world  is  not  enough  : — the  despot 
must  sway  the  private  sentiments,  and  disturb  the  medita- 
tions of  all  who  dare  not  repel  his  usurpations.  The 
most  innocent  tastes  are  regarded  as  matters  of  personal 
quarrel,  by  the  obstreperous  tyrant — "  While  you  cloak 
your  thoughts,  I  assume  that  you  are  harbouring  the  pur- 
pose of  resistance  to  my  will.  When  you  express  them, 
you  openly  defy  my  power."  This  is  the  real  meaning 

20 


218  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

of  the  language  of  arrogant  and  overbearing  tempera* 
What  wonder  is  it  if  the  meek  and  modest  should  escape, 
when  they  can,  from  the  circle  of  such  tyranny  ;  or  that 
when  so  escaped,  their  hearts  should  passionately  cleave 
to  the  freedom  of  the  monastic  life  ? 

A  feeling  very  similar  to  this  is  common  even  to  men 
of  far  more  intellectual  vigor  than  we  attribute  to  the  Re- 
cluse ;    and    actually  exerts  a  great  influence  over  the 
manners  and  habits  of  some  of  the  most  superior  minds. 
Such  are  compelled  to  confess  that  it  is  only  within   the 
sanctuary  of  their  own  bosoms  they  can  enjoy  free  con- 
verse with  Truth  and  Reason.     The  open  world  is  too 
impatient,  too  wilful,  too  capricious,  and  too  intolerant,  to 
give  place  to  the  liberty  in  which  Truth  and  Reason 
delight.    In  the  very  choicest  society  there  is  not  enough  of 
simplicity  not  enough  of  integrity,  not  candour,  not  know- 
ledge, nor  perspicuity  enough,  to  allow  scope  for  an  unanx- 
ious   expression   and    copious    interchange  of  thought. 
There  are  truths,  or  we  should  say  there  are  indications 
of  truth,  which  are  not  to  be  entertained  without  much 
delicacy  of  handling.     Bring  them   into   dispute — haul 
them  forth  upon  the  arena  of  controversy,  and  they  vanish 
from   the  sight.     It  is  far  from  being  an  axiom  that, 
whatever  is  true  or  important,  or  in  a  degree  intelligible, 
may  be  brought  out  and  submitted  to  the  judgment  of 
any  sort  of  minds.      The  very  reverse  is  often  the  fact. 
Beyond  the  bounded  circle  of  things  which  may  be  meas- 
ured on  all  sides,  and  categorically  spoken  of,  and  which 
from  the  homestead  of  minds  of  little  leisure  or  compre 
hension  ;  there  is  a  wide  and  uncircumscribed  sphere 
wherein  spirits  excursive,  and  philosophically  modest,  taki 
their  range  ;  and  whence  they  bring  home,  if  not  certain 
and  irrefragable  conclusions,  at  least  scattered  particles  of 


THE  RECLUSE.  2 19 

wisdom,  which  they  more  highly  esteem  than  all  the 
stamped  coinage  whereof  dogmatism  makes  its  boast. 
It  is  precisely  to  save  these  elements  of  imperfect  know- 
ledge, that  the  man  of  comprehensive  mind  often  hides 
himself  in  silence,  or  withdraws  altogether  from  society. 
If  the  characteristic  difference  between  strong  and  feeble 
minds  were  asked  for,  it  might  be  replied — it  is  found  in 
the  habit  (in  the  former  case)  of  adhering  firmly  to  truths 
which  have  once  been  settled  on  satisfactory  evidence;  and 
(in  the  other)  in  that  of  calling  such  principles  into  ques- 
tion, ever  and  again.  But  if  it  were  required  to  distinguish 
great  minds  from  strong  ones,  we  must  say,  that  the 
latter  so  hold  their  system  of  established  truths,  as  to  shut 
out  their  prospect  of  what  may  lie  beyond  it ;  while  the 
former  without  quitting  the  ground  of  demonstration,  with- 
out confounding  the  known  with  the  hypothetical,  never 
lose  sight  of  that  more  distant  range  of  things,  which  the 
human  eye  is  permitted  dimly  to  discern,  though  not  dis- 
tinctly to  explore. 

To  return  from  this  momentary  digression,  it  may  be 
affirmed  that  a  man  much  addicted  to  religious  meditation, 
comes  into  the  possession  of  a  rich  and  hidden  treasure  of 
undefined  sentiments,  and  indistinct  conceptions,  which 
he  is  by  no  means  prepared  to  explain  and  defend  before 
all ;  and  which  he  feels  to  be  safe  from  spoliation,  only 
when  he  himself  is  far  removed  from  this  impertinence 
and  the  insolence  of  the  open  world. 

If  the  Recluse  be  thus  strongly  confirmed  in  his  choice 
of  a  life  of  retirement ;  he  is  also,  if  single-hearted  and 
sincere,  freed,  by  his  higher  principles,  from  those  motives 
which,  in  secular  minds,  counteract  the  desire  of  seclusion. 
It  has  not  been  a  rare  occurrence  to  see  men  of  extraordi- 
nary intellectual  stature,  who  yesterday  were  pressing 


220  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

through  the  crowd,  and  challenging  to  themselves  all  eyes 
and  ears,  to-day  betaking  themselves,  in  high  disgust,  to 
some  valley  of  silence :  and  yet  to-morrow  they  will  be 
found  again  in  the  very  midst  of  the  uproar  of  the  world. 
A  similar  inconsistency  has  often  marked  the  course  of  the 
self-admiring  anchoret,  who,  after  he  has  actually  acquired 
the  power  of  enduring  the  most  intolerable  of  evils — abso- 
lute solitude,  at  length  reverts  to  natural  motives — strolls 
back  towards  the  borders  of  his  wilderness — towards  the 
skirts  of  the  profane  world  ;  and  there  gives  it  to  be  un- 
derstood— that  he  consents  to  be  gazed  at ! 

But  the  genuine  recluse,  by  his  converse  with  absolute 
excellence,  and  by  the  firmness  and  distinctness  of  his 
hope  of  immortality,  has  gained  a  real  mastery  over  the 
desire  of  human  applause ;  and  is  truly  content  to  live 
and  die  unknown  of  men  :  the  motives  therefore  which 
retain  him  in  solitude  are  not  counterpoised  by  any  other 
sentiments. 

Yes  ; — but  there  remains  a  difficulty — an  insuperable 
difficulty,  in  the  way  of  the  Recluse.  This  very  Chris, 
tianity,  whence  he  has  derived  the  various  elements  of  his 
solitary  bliss— this  very  book,  which  opens  to  him  an  in- 
exhaustible treasure  of  ineffable,  meditation,  itself  peremp- 
torily refuses  to  give  its  sanction  to  his  purpose  of  seclusion  : 
— it  follows  him  to  his  cell  with  the  most  imperative  com- 
mands ;  and  requires  him,  instead  of  thus  seeking  to 
please  himself  to  return  into  the  very  heart  of  every  social 
relation,  and  to  encumber  himself  with  every  office  of 
common  life  ! 

Among  the  many  unobtrusive,  yet  convincing  evi- 
dences of  the  divine  original  of  the  Scriptures,  the  one 
now  presented  to  us  must  not  be  overlooked,  or  deemed 
of  small  value.  Christianity,  which  very  far  excels  any 


THE  RECLUSE.  221 

other  system  of  religion  the  world  has  seen,  in  furnishing 
the  means,  and  in  presenting  the  objects,  and  in  enhanc- 
ing the  motives,  of  solitary  meditation,  nevertheless  takes 
the  better  course  of  good  sense  and  benevolence,  and  en- 
joins (whatever  may  be  the  impulse  of  personal  tastes) 
that  ''Godliness"  should  add  to  itself — "brotherly  kind- 
ness."— In  other  words,  declares,  that  no  piety  is  authen- 
tic, which  is  not  social. 

20* 


XVIII. 
THE  MODERN  ANCHORET. 

"And  to  Brotherly  Kindness,  Charily.1' 


Too  much  fondness  for  meditative  retirement  is  not  the 
crying  sin  of  our  modern  Christianity.  The  mildness 
and  modesty  of  monasticism  is  little  likely  to  gain  admirers 
among  those  whose  activity,  and  whose  frivolity ;  whose 
disputatious  spirit,  and  whose  tendency  to  scepticism  ; 
whose  mercantile  habits,  and  whose  preference  of  physical 
science  ;  lead  them  to  hold  in  contempt  Avhatever  has  no 
exchangeable  value  in  society. 

But  it  does  not  follow  because  we  do  not  tolerate  mo- 
nasticism, and  do  not  hold  contemplative  modesty  in 
honour,  that  we  should  find  no  room  at  all  for  unsocial, 
malign,  and  selfish  pietism.  Facts  prove  the  contrary. 
Nevertheless  it  is  true,  as  might  well  be  supposed,  that 
the  modern  seclusive  style  of  religion,  adapts  itself  to  the 
spirit  of  the  age  ;  and  is  altogether  unlike  the  trembling, 
solitary  taste  of  early  ages.  If  there  is  to  be  in  England, 
and  in  the  nineteenth  century,  an  abhorrent  or  repulsive 
system  of  religion,  it  must  be  abstruse,  ratiocinative,  stern, 
and  in  some  sense  philosophical.  It  must  assume  the 
form  of  erudite  and  metaphysical  theology  ;  and  will  be 
found  no  lover  of  shade,  and  silence,  and  peace — as  inof- 
fensive as  imbecile ;  but  bold,  arrogant,  full  of  defiance, 
rancour,  contradiction  ;  it  will  be  loud,  intolerant  severe, 
exclusive,  and  aggressive  :  it  will  be  inexorable,  and  fac- 
tious. Such  must  be  the  style  of  anti-social  godliness  in 
our  times,  and  for  our  country. 


THE  MODERN  ANCHORET.  223 

Is  then  this  description  altogether  hypothetical ;  or  may 
we  actually  trace  it  in  the  features  of  some  existing  party  1 
This  is  to  be  inquired ;  and  having  already  adverted  to 
the  principal  perversion  of  Christianity,  in  our  times,  as 
exhibiting  the  twofold  form  of  a  higher,  and  a  lower — an 
intellectual,  and  a  vulgar  corruption ;  we  now  name  this 
higher  and  intellectual  heresy,  as  identical  with  the  mod- 
ern anchoretic  style  of  pietism. 

The  laborious  task  of  nicely  weighing  and  adjusting 
abstruse  distinctions  may  very  properly  be  renounced, 
when  the  common  and  intelligible  principles  of  good 
feeling  and  sympathy  between  man  and  man,  are  in  ques- 
tion. We  shall  therefore  pay  no  regard  whatever  to  those 
metaphysical  propositions  by  which  the  ultra-calvinist  may 
endeavour  to  repel  the  charge  of  being  a  fatalist :  but 
assuming  as  fair,  the  obvious  sense  of  the  phrases  he  is 
accustomed  to  employ,  shall  describe  and  treat  him  as 
such.  Now  we  affirm  that  although  the  amiable  dispo- 
sitions of  an  individual ;  or  the  happy  inveteracy  of  the 
better  instincts  of  our  nature  ;  or  a  prudent  deference  to 
common  notions,  and  common  modes  of  speaking,  may 
greatly  modify  or  disguise  the  fact ;  it  is  always  true,  that 
the  fatalist,  M'hether  he  be  a  philosophical  or  religious  one 
(if  he  understands  and  truly  believes  his  dogma)  is  a 
being  insulated  from  the  communion  of  the  active  and 
sympathetic  world.  He  may,  if  he  pleases,  borrow  the 
wings  of  Night,  and  pass  beyond  the  bounds  of  the  visible 
universe;  or  he  may  abide  still  in  the  precincts  of  the  living; 
it  is  equally  certain  that  his  fatalism  encompasses  him  with 
solitude :  he  is  always  alone,  though  in  the  midst  of  the 
busiest  crowd.  That  man  must  assuredly  be  so,  who  has 
no  faith  in  the  reality  of  the  principles  and  motives  upon 
which  the  mass  of  mankind  are  acting — who  holds  the  en- 


324  SATURDAY  EVENING, 

tire  machinery  of  the  moral  world  to  be  an  illusion,  and  who 
though  he  may  ia  courtesy  smile  and  weep  when  others 
do  so,  inwardly  jeers  that  complicated  farce  of  hopes  and 
fears  of  which,  as  he  thinks,  mankind  is  the  dupe. 

The  atheistical  fatalist,  and  the  theological  fatalist — the 
man  of  abstract  demonstrations,  and  the  man  of  texts  and 
polemics — he  who  makes  mockery  of  his  fellow-men  pro- 
fanely, and  he  who  does  the  same  thing  in  perverted  phra- 
ses of  Scripture,  alike  are  UNIVERSAL  SCOFFERS.  Or  if 
there  be  any  thing  excepted  from  the  range  of  their  con- 
tempt, it  is  just  the  little  circle  of  their  private  welfare  (for 
no  philosopher  of  this  class  pretends  to  think  his  own  pains 
and  pleasures  a  jest).  In  the  view  of  the  fatalist,  though 
there  be  a  thousand  petty  absurdities  on  earth,  nothing  is 
half  so  absurd  as  the  entire  constitution  of  the  moral  sys- 
tem ; — nothing  so  preposterous  as — man,  and  his  desti- 
nies !  Or  if  the  religious  fatalist,  when  compared  with  the 
atheistical,  seem  to  possess  the  merit  of  respecting  the  lan- 
guage and  decencies  of  piety  ;  it  is  only  that  he  may  com- 
mit a  worse  outrage  upon  the  first  principles  of  religious 
fear  and  love,  by  horridly  distorting  every  attribute  of  the 
Divine  Nature.  Better  were  it  at  once  to  say  "  there  is  no 
God,"  than  admit  a  Deity  such  as  the  fatalist  supposes. 
The  atheist  saves  a  thousand  impieties,  by  the  one  impiety 
of  denying  boldly  the  greatest  and  most  certain  of  all  truth. 
The  religious  fatalist  can  never  speak  honestly  and  con" 
sistently  of  either  God  or  man,  without  uttering  a  blasphe- 
my ; — or  a  calumny. 

And  when  he  goes  about  to  digest  his  notions  of  the 
moral  attributes  of  the  Supreme  Being,  he  is  compelled  to 
impose  a  sense  altogether  novel  and  peculiar  upon  the 
terms — Benevolence,  Mercy,  Justice,  Holiness  ;  so  that 
they  no  longer  retain  any  analogy  with  the  sense  they 


THE  MODERN  ANCHORET.  225 

bear  when  applied  to  human  sentiments  and  actions.  In 
other  words,  he  excludes  the  notion  of  the  Divine  charac- 
ter entirely  from  the  circle  of  human  ideas  ;  and  this  is 
one  and  the  same  thing  as  to  deprive  the  mind  of  man  of 
the  only  conceptions  it  can  form  of  God  ; — it  is  atheism 
— all  but  a  name.  When  therefore  a  theologue  of  this 
school  reverts  to  the  precincts  of  human  affections,  he 
finds  that  the  notions  commonly  entertained  of  kind- 
ness, beneficence,  rectitude,  and  so  forth  have  nothing  in 
them  that  is  divine  or  spiritual  (on  his  principles),  and  he 
looks  upon  such  emotions,  or  modes  of  conduct,  with  suspi- 
cion, or  with  contempt  as  merely  natural  and  therefore 
proper  objects  of  reprobation.  A  poor  preparation,  truly, 
for  the  faithful,  and  generous,  and  upright  discharge  of 
social  duties  !  To  think  injuriously  of  God,  is  always  to 
deprive  or  to  nullify  morality. 

We  are  granting  that  our  man  of  abstruse  theology — • 
intellectualist  as  he  is,  does  not  stand  chargeable  with  vio- 
lating the  common  rules  of  justice,  or  temperance  :  we 
consider  him  only  as  necessarily  anti-social  in  his  reli- 
gious sentiments ;  and  he  is  so  (if  indeed  his  principles  take 
hold  of  his  mind)  because  his  theological  ideas  of  moral 
qualities  are  altogether  inapplicable  to  the  human  system ; 
and  can  never  be  brought  to  work  in  with  ordinary  feel- 
ings of  good-will,  and  charity.  He  is  taught  to  shun,  as 
false,  if  not  pernicious,  the  entire  body  of  these  mundane 
emotions,  and  natural  virtues.  His  religion  is  not  an 
amendment,  a  purification,  a  restoration  of  things  that 
have  fallen  into  decay  and  corruption  : — it  does  not  mingle 
itself  therewith,  as  a  congenial  leaven  ;  but  it  is  altogether 
a  foreign  element,  abhorrent  of  all  other  principles,  and 
exclusive  of  all  others.  The  theologue  feels  that,  in  con- 
versing at  all  with  his  fellow-men  on  the  ground  of  their 


226  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

notions  or  feelings,  he  is  holding  his  own  in  abeyance,  or 
forfeiting  consistency ; — such  communion  is  a  concession 
to  folly  and  error,  like  that  of  a  man,  who  for  an  hour, 
makes  himself  a  party  in  the  sports  and  prattle  of  chil- 
dren. 

But  though  our  religious  sophist  is  thus  shut  out  from 
free  and  ingenious  converse  with  mankind  at  large,  and 
is  condemned  to  look  in  disdain  upon  the  movements  and 
sympathies  of  the  wide  world  ;  may  he  not,  at  least,  find 
scope  for  his  benevolence  within  the  pale  of  the  church  ? 
If  the  bulk  of  mankind  are  to  him  estranged  ;  what  for- 
bids him  to— "  love  the  brotherhood  ?"  Alas  !  he  is  as 
much  beset  with  difficulties  in  this  narrower  circle,  as  he 
was  in  the  wider  one.  The  cause  of  these  new  embar- 
rassments may  readily  be  found.  There  is  an  important 
difference  between  a  perfect  science,  which  admits 
nothing  but  what  is  demonstrable  ;  and  that  sort  of  gen- 
eral, or  loosely  compacted  knowledge,  of  the  same  subject, 
which  may  float  at  large  among  men.  For  while  the 
latter  allows  of  much  variety  and  diversity  of  opinion, 
and  admits  many  degrees  of  proficiency  or  advancement, 
the  former  is  absolute  and  peremptory  :  it  must  be  received 
entire,  or  rejected  :  it  can  no  more  grant  indulgence  to 
difference  of  opinions,  than  the  elliptic  arch  can  allow  of 
a  broken  irregularity  of  line. 

Now  while  the  generality  of  Christians,  as  they  mod- 
estly pursue  their  different  paths  of  Scriptural  inquiry,  are 
conscious,  and  are  ready  to  confess,  that  it  is  but  a  portion 
of  divine  kowledge  which  they  severally  attain  ;  and  that 
therefore  it  is  most  reasonable  to  exercise  toward  each  other 
the  indulge  nee  of  which  each  has  a  need  in  his  turn — the 
professor  of  abstract  or  philosophical  theology,  challenges  for 
his  system  the  prerogatives  of  a  finished  science.  In  truth 


THE  MODERN  ANCHORET.  227 

it  were  preposterous,  on  his  part,  to  take  any  lower  ground. 
If  fatalism  of  any  kind  is  to  be  admitted,  it  must  be  yield- 
ed to  because  it  is  impossible  to  resist  it.  Seeing  that  the 
entire  evidence  of  common  experience,  and  the  irresistible 
consciousness  of  men  turns  directly  against  any  such  doc- 
trine, it  can,  of  course,  maintain  its  ground  only  by  force 
of  logic.  Fatalism  must  needs  be  dogmatic  and  intole- 
rant ;  if  it  would  exist  at  all. 

In  perfect  consistency  with  his  claim  of  inflliability, 
the  theologue  professes  to  have  come  into  possesion  of  his 
scheme  of  religion,  not  in  the  slow,  painful,  and  uncertain 
method  of  an  induction  of  principles  from  Scripture  ;  but 
by  climbing  the  height  of  the  Eternal  throne — by  looking 
into  the  records  of  universal  government — and  by  having 
gained  the  climax,  or  apex,  of  divine  science  whence  he 
can  look  down  on  all  sides,  and  contemplate,  at  leizure, 
the  great  movements  of  the  sentient  system.  In  fact,  soph- 
ists of  this  class  are  perpetually  ascending  to  universals  ; 
— are  always  reaching  the  infinite  :  are  taking  position  at 
the  centre  of  truth.  Their  method  is  that  of  synthesis 
and  comprehension ;  not  of  analysis  and  induction. 
Hence  results,  by  a  natural  consequence,  the  paucity  and 
uniformity  of  their  themes,  and  the  monotony  of  their  dis- 
courses. The  highest  circle  of  abstraction  can  never  admit 
of  copiousness  or  variety. 

But  the  special  consequencse  we  have  now  to  do  with 
is  that  intolerance  which,  by  an  unavoidable  necessity, 
attends  hyper-theology.  In  the  reason  of  things  it  can 
admit  of  no  freedom,  no  internal  play  of  parts ;  it  is  iron- 
bound  on  every  side.  You  must  receive  it  as  it  is  ;  or  re- 
ject it :  there  can  be  no  middle  course.  It  were  folly  to 
talk  of  diversities  of  opinion,  or  shades  of  difference,  in 


228  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

relation  to  that  which,  if  it  be  absolutely  true,  is  utterly 
false. 

And  then,  because  no  two  human  minds  can  be  brought 
into  perfect  unison  ;  and  because  language,  which  is  the 
vehicle  of  metaphysical  dogmas,  is  a  very  faulty  organ  of 
conveyance ;  and  moreover,  because  there  will  arise  a 
thousand  discordancies  of  opinion  when  a  system  of  ab- 
stract theology  comes  to  be  adjusted  to  the  various  and 
unanxious  language  of  the  inspired  writers,  therefore  it 
happens,  that  the  metaphysical  theologue  never  finds  one 
whom  he  can  deem  to  have  reached  the  very  line  of  truth 
that  trembles  on  perfection.  There  can  be  no  space 
for  brotherhood,  in  this  region  of  points  that  have  no  ex- 
tension. 

An  appearance  of  exaggeration  unavoidably  attaches  to 
every  attempt  to  define  and  describe  an  abstract  error  like 
the  one  in  question  ;  because,  in  fixing  and  exposing  the 
secret  principle  of  such  errors,  and  in  marking  them  so 
distinctly  as  not  to  be  afterwards  confounded,  we  must 
affirm  somewhat  more  than  is  perhaps  actually  to  be  found 
in  any  single  example  of  the  sort.  But  the  fair  question 
returns — Have  we,  or  not,  detained  and  held  in  our  grasp 
a  real  existence? — have  we  so  gone  about  it  as  to  fix  its 
relative  position,  and  to  give  it  truly  a  name,  and  place  in 
our  circle  of  ideas  ?  And  is  it  true,  or  not,  that  there  is 
found  among  us  a  religious  system,  that  is  characteristical- 
ly sullen,  arrogant,  intolerant,  exclusive ;  a  system  that 
impels  its  adherents  to  frown  upon  mankind  at  large,  to 
refuse  aid  and  fellowship  in  all  labours  of  evangelical  be- 
nevolence, and  to  denounce,  as  heretical  every  form  of 
doctrine,  that  does  not  reach  a  certain  point  of  abstract 
perfection  ?  Is  there,  we  ask,  among  us,  a  doctrine  which, 


THE  MODERN  ANCHORET.  229 

beyond  any  other,  is  anti-social  and  uncharitable  ?  If 
not,  we  have  been  beating  the  air  :  or  if  hyper-calvinism 
be  not  that  doctrine,  we  are  chargeable  with  calumny. 

It  need  not  be  proved  that  Christianity  is  the  religion  of 
brotherhood,  and  of  good-will  to  mankind  at  large.  The 
inference  only  remains  to  be  noted — that  the  doctrine  we 
have  spoken  of  is  not  Christianity. 

21 


XIX. 

THE  FAMILY  AFFECTION  OF 
CHRISTIANITY. 

"  Be  kindly  AJfcctioned  one  to  another,  wtik  Brotlierly  Lore." 


THE  Christian  sentiment  of  affection  towards  those 
whom  we  believe  to  be  sharers  with  us  in  the  hope  of  eter- 
nal life,  and  fellow-pilgrims  through  an  unfriendly  land  to 
the  same  region  of  peace  and  joy,  is  of  a  peculiar  kind  ; 
nor  to  be  entirely  resembled  to  any  feeling  common  to 
mankind.  Nevertheless  it  has  a  near  analogy  to  the  love 
that  cements  the  domestic  relations ;  and  in  comparing 
the  one  emotion — part  by  part  with  the  other,  we  shall 
gain  a  distinct  idea,  both  of  the  approximation  of  the  two, 
and  of  their  difference. 

There  meets  us  then,  at  the  outset,  that  difference  be- 
tween family  affection  and  Christian  love,  which  springs 
from  the  primary  constituent  of  the  latter — namely  the 
high  immeasurable  importance  with  which  Christianity 
invests  every  human  being,  and  by  which  it  incalculably 
enhances  whatever  affects  his  wealth,  or  his  moral  condi- 
tion. The  affections  of  earth,  how  vehement  soever,  are 
transitory,  as  itself:  but  the  love  which  has  become  com- 
bined with  the  idea  of  immortality,  is  firm,  profound,  and 
indestructible.  Atheism,  in  all  its  forms,  desiccates  the 
affections.  To  believe  that  man  perishes  in  death,  as  the 
grass  of  the  field,  is  to  rob  the  benign  emotions  of  all  that 
essentially  distinguish  them  from  the  grossest  animal  in- 


FAMILY  AFFECTION  OF  CHRISTIANITY".  231 

stincts.  But  on  the  contrary,  when  we  extend  our  con- 
ceptions of  human  nature  so  as  to  embrace  an  unlimited 
futurity,  we  give,  in  the  same  proportion,  force  and  en- 
largement to  every  feeling  of  which  human  beings  are 
the  objects.  It  is  only  in  religion  that  we  can  find  the 
the  true  philosophy  of  love  ;  for  love,  a  part  from  the  belief 
of  an  after  state,  he  has  neither  substance,  nor  purity.  It 
will  befound,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  that  the  faith  of  immor- 
tality, and  the  feeling  of  Christian  love,  are  always  in 
direct  relation,  one  to  the  other,  as  to  their  intensity  :  if  the 
one  be  in  great  force,  the  other  is  so  :  if  the  first  languishes, 
in  any  age,  the  second  disappears.  And,  at  any  moment, 
if  the  belief  of  eternal  life  could  be  suddenly  invigorated, 
the  spirit  of  faction  and  jealousy  would  instantly  be  ex- 
halted  from  the  church  ;  and  of  Christians  it  would  once 
more  be  said — "  See  how  they  love  one  another." 

In  this  primary  element  of  Christian  affection,  we 
readily  find  a  reason  sufficient  to  explain  its  comprehen- 
siveness, and  its  universality,  and  its  power  of  rising  above 
those  checks  that  might  spring  from  the  imperfection  of 
individual  character.  The  greater  motive  overpowers  the 
less,  in  all  the  exercise  of  true  love  ;  and  in  Christian  love, 
when  simple  and  sincere,  it  is  much  more  so.  The 
brightness  of  immortality  obliterates  fainter  impressions  ; 
and,  when  any  one  is  indeed  belived  to  be  a  Christian,  the 
idea  of  dignity  that  connects  itself  with  that  persuasion, 
outweighs  every  other  feeling.  In  each  heir  of  heaven  we 
see— heaven  itself,  more  than  the  qualities  or  merits  of 
him  who  is  on  the  road  thither :  much  in  the  same  way 
as  when  some  extraordinary  occasion  kindles  the  enthusi- 
asm of  an  assembled  nation,  and  the  multitude,  with  joy- 
ous shouts  in  moving  on,  in  procession  ;  the  high-wrought 
patriotism  that  floats  in  the  air,  binds  heart  to  heart}  even 


232  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

among  those  who  are  personally  strangers :  every  man, 
without  question  or  scrutiny,  grasps  the  hand  of  his  neigh- 
bour, in  frank  and  cordial  good-will. 

No  other  principle  can  generate  an  emotion  comparable 
to  Christian  love,  for  the  plain  reason  that  no  other  princi- 
ple has  at  command  so  vast  an  idea  as  that  of  endless  ex- 
istence. It  is  by  the  means  of  this  great  idea  that  the 
brotherly  kindness  taught  by  the  Gospel  arms  itself  against 
the  disgusts  and  disappointments  that  will  belong  to 
whatever  is  human.  Be  it  so,  that  the  objects  of  our 
regard  are  ignorant  (like  ourselves)  of  much  which  it 
would  well  befit  them  to  know  :  and  be  it  also  that  the 
better  and  purer  motives  that  work  within  them  are  (as 
with  ourselves)  much  disturbed  and  thwarted  by  the  un- 
extinguished  propensities  of  an  evil  nature.  All  this,  or 
more,  may  be  granted  ;  and  though  human  virtue,  in  its 
best  specimens,  is  infirm,  and  much  sullied,  it  is  never- 
theless true  that  every  Christian,  because  he  is  such,  and 
whatever  may  be  his  relative  excellence,  is  treading  the 
ascent  of  wisdom  and  goodness ;  and  shall  at  length, 
notwithstanding  many  delays  and  repulses,  reach  an  ele- 
vation on  that  upward  path  where  he  shall  fairly  challenge 
all  our  esteem.  Yes,  and  it  is  true  that  an  era  in  his 
course  shall  arrive  when  supernal  beings — themselves  an- 
cient proficients  in  virtue,  shall  count  him  their  worthy 
companion,  and  delight  in  his  converse.  If  it  were  only 
on  the  strength  of  such  anticipations,  he  might  well  now 
command  our  regard,  who  are  subject  to  precisely  the  same 
conditions,  and  have  need  of  the  same  indulgence. 

Christian  love  has  its  most  obvious  analogy  with  the 
domestic  affections  in  its  sense  of  relationship,  as  brethren, 
through  one  who  is  related  equally  to  all,  as  Head.  But 
the  emotion  we  are  treating  of  draws  a  peculiarity  from 


FAMILY  Af-  SECTION  OP  CHRISTIANITY.  233 

the  absence  and  invisibility  of  the  Head  of  the  family. 
There  is  a  sense  in  which  the  members  so  represent  the 
head,  that  He  whom  the  mortal  eye  cannot  discern,  is 
brought,  by  their  means,  under  the  cognizance  of  the  eye. 
So  far  as  Christies  truly  exhibit  the  characteristics  of 
their  Lord,  in  spirit  and  conduct,  a  vivid  emotion  is  en- 
kindled in  other  Christian  bosoms,  as  if  the  bright  Origin- 
al of  all  perfection  stood  dimly  revealed.  This  emotion, 
perhaps,  would  hardly  be  generated  by  a  single  instance, 
or  by  a  very  few  instances  of  the  temper  and  behaviour 
that  become  the  Gospel :  for  the  divine  image,  in  any 
single  example,  is  too  faint,  or  too  much  blemished,  to 
bring  with  it  forcibly  the  idea  of  Supreme  Excellence  to 
which  is  related.  But  in  the  multitude  of  instances  there 
may  clearly  be  seen  a  concurrence — a  harmony — a  con- 
vergence of  evidence,  such  as  leaves  no  doubt  of  the  truth, 
that  all  are  copies  after  the  same  pattern.  The  conclusion 
comes  upon  the  mind  with  accumulated  power,  that  we 
are  not  entertaining  an  illusion,  while  we  believe  that  this 
family  resemblance,  this  homogeneity  of  character, 
springs  from  a  common  centre  ;  and  that  there  exists,  as 
its  archetype,  an  invisible  Personage,  of  whose  glory  all 
have  in  a  measure  partaken.  The  Christian  brotherhood 
is  therefore  to  each  individual  of  the  community  a  sensi- 
ble proof  of  the  reality  of  his  faith  ;  and  each  embraces 
all,  not  merely  with  affection  ;  but  with  that  peculiar 
solicitude  and  satisfaction  wherewith  the  soul,  at  all  times, 
grasps  an  assurance  of  the  substantiality  of  its  dearest 
hopes. 

Christian    love  and  the  domestic  affections  may  very 
appropriately  be  compared  on  the  ground  of  that  enhance- 
ment which  both  receive  from  the  assured  and  familiar 
knowledge  that  prevails  within  their  respective  circles,  of 
21* 


SATURDAY  EVENING. 

the  character  and  dispositions  of  each.  It  is  not  perhaps 
commonly  considered  how  much  the  strength,  permanence, 
and  vivacity  of  love  depend  upon  the  simple  circumstance 
of  an  intimate  acquaintance  with  the  spirit  of  its  object — 
its  habits,  purposes,  infirmities,  burdtgis,  sorrows.  The 
very  reverse  of  this  might  have  been  imagined,  as  more 
probable  ;  for  it  would  have  becn?natural  to  suppose  that 
mankind  being  such  as  they  are,  mutual  esteem  and  affec- 
tion would  have  borne  proportion  directly  to  our  ignorance 
one  of  another.  But  it  is  not  so  ;  on  the  contrary,  igno- 
rance of  each  other's  character,  more  than  any  other 
cause,  represses  the  social  sentiments,  and  checks  every 
benign  emotion.  It  does  so,  first,  by  giving  room  to  sus- 
picion, and  to  the  chilling  fear  (a  fear  which  pride 
enhances)  of  becoming  the  dupes  of  hypocrisy  ;  and  next, 
by  depriving  the  imagination  of  its  means  of  vividly  con- 
ceiving of  the  actual  feelings  or  sorrows  of  those  around 
us ;  and  this  lively  impression  is,  by  the  laws  of  the  human 
mind,  indispensable  to  the  vigorous  movements  of  sympa- 
thy. That  which  the  imagination  does  not  realize,  the 
heart  does  not  heed.  It  is  this  principle  that  explains 
much  of  the  apparent  insensibility  and  indifference  to  the 
sufferings  of  others,  which  is  shown  by  the  mass  of  man- 
kind. 

But  the  intensity  and  tranquil  permanence  of  love  most 
of  all  depend  upon  the  exclusion  of  all  lurking  doubts 
concerning  the  secret  dipositions  or  real  sentiments  of  the 
objects  of  our  regards.  Now  human  nature  is  so  mystical 
a  thing,  its  external  characteristics  are  so  variable,  or  at 
least  so  intricate  in  their  combinations,  and  the  outward 
and  ordinary  symbols  of  inward  emotion  are  so  fine,  or  so 
fallacious,  that  nothing  can  give  us  the  certain  assurance 
we  need,  except  the  close  and  intimate  familiarity  of 


FAMILY  AFFECTION  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  235 

domestic  life  :  and  it  is  an  admirable  provision  of  the  divine 
wisdom  which  affords  us  the  opportunity  of  knowing  best 
those  whom  we  ought  most  to  love  and  succour.  The 
unlocked  for  incidents  of  family  history,  and  its  sudden 
excitements,  and  its  arduous  occasions,  bring  the  individ- 
uals of  the  home  circle  within  the  sanctuary  of  each 
other's  bosoms.  And  then,  there  is  always  going  on  in 
each  mind  an  unobserved  process  of  induction,  wherein 
the  listless  actions,  and  trivial  expressions  of  every  hour, 
go  to  form  an  estimate,  in  the  mind  of  each,  of  the  worth 
and  quality  of  the  others  ;  until  each  feels  that  he  has 
almost  as  perfect  a  knowledge  of  the  heart  of  brother,  sis- 
ter, parent,  child,  husband,  wife,  as  of  his  own.  It  is  on 
the  solid  ground  of  this  familiar  knowledge  that  the 
domestic  affections  take  their  tranquil  standing ;  and 
unless  the  companions  of  our  lives  are  absolutely  unwor- 
thy of  our  love,  or  ourselves  are  incapable  of  pure  and 
generous  emotions,  we  shall  love  them»with  more  vivaci- 
ty, and  with  more  steadiness,  when  the  depth  of  their 
faults  has  been  sounded,  than  we  could  while  ignorance 
(mother  of  jealousy  and  fear)  stood  in  the  way  between 
heart  and  heart.  To  harbour  the  thought  that  there  is 
yet  at  all  in  the  soul  of  one  near  to  us  a  concealment  we 
have  not  explored  is  the  same  thing  as  to  hold  the  whole 
of  our  affection  in  abeyance. 

It  is  this  home  familiarity — this  domestic  perfection  of 
knowledge,  that  opens  the  sluices  of  sensibility,  that  vivifies 
every  sympathy,  that  makes  the  sentient  principle  of  each 
common  to  all ;  so  as  in  a  manner  to  blend  identities,  and 
to  diffuse  consciousness  through  the  social  body.  The 
many  become  one,  by  the  mutuality  of  power  of  enjoy- 
ment, and  of  suffering.  There  is,  even  in  the  most 
benevolent  minds,  an  instinctive  revulsion  from  the  sight 


236  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

of  pain,  which  compels  it  to  escape  from  the  scene  of  woe, 
and  which  has  to  be  overcome  by  higher  motives  But 
in  relation  to  those  who  are  within  the  immediate  circle  of 
our  affections,  this  instinct  is  not  in  operation  ;  or  gives 
way  to  an  opposite  impulse,  which  irresistibly  detains  us 
by  the  side  of  the  object  of  our  passionate  fondness,  in  the 
hour  of  distress.  This  sympathy  is  little  less  than  a  per- 
fect image,  or  counterpart  of  the  sorrow  or  anguish  that  is 
its  cause.  Just  as  when  the  clear  and  glowing  sunbeams 
of  a  sultry  day  fall  upon  the  bosom  of  a  reeking  cloud, 
there  is  seen  a  second  bow,  embracing  the  first,  and  it  is 
hard  to  say  whether  the  tender  colours  of  the  reflection  arc 
not  as  distinct  as  those  of  the  primary  arch ;  at  least 
the  one  faithfully  corresponds  to  the  other. 

And  now  must  we  indeed  run  back  to  the  first  era  of 
Christianity  in  search  of  illustrations  of  our  parallel  be- 
between  Christian  love  and  family  affection  ?  Let  it  be 
granted  that  the  Diffusion  of  a  lax  or  false  profession  of 
religion  has,  to  a  great  degree,  slackened  the  fervour  of  that 
brotherly  kindness  which  the  Gospel  generates  and  enjoins; 
— for  no  one  well  knows  who  is  indeed  his  '•  brother  in 
Christ." — Nevertheless  it  is  still  true  that  this  fruit  of  the 
Spirit  is  produced,  is  ripened,  is  gathered,  within  the 
church.  It  is  now,  as  always  true,  that  the  Gospel  so 
opens  the  heart  of  man  to  man,  that  the  benign  affections 
take  their  start  at  once  from  the  vantage  ground  of  inti- 
mate acquaintance.  It  is  true  that  Christians  know  each 
other  in  a  sense  which  is  altogether  peculiar  to  Chris- 
tianity. 

This  affirmation  may  readily  be  made  good.  3Ian, 
while  he  continues  unregeneratc,  does  not  know  his  bro- 
ther, for  this  conclusive  reason — that  he  does  not  know 
himself.  The  inbred  infatuation  which  prevents  his  seeing 


FAMILY  AFFECTION  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  237 

his  relation  to  God,  and  his  destination  to  another  life, 
spreads  itself  as  a  spirit  of  blindness  through  his  soul ; 
and  brings  with  it  endless  confusions  and  mistakes. 
Nothing  of  the  inner  world  is  simply  and  correctly  under- 
stood :  the  heart  is  a  maze  of  preposterous  suppositions,  the 
varnished  motives,  and  idle  conceits  of  self-love.  The 
world  reflects  ilself  on  the  mirror  of  the  mind  in  distorted 
proportions ;  or  appears  in  phantasm  ;  and  the  imagination, 
erroneously  moved  by  these  images  of  things  unreal,  or 
exaggerated,  breeds  an  abundance  of  vanities.  Moreover 
the  conscience,  turbid  with  hidden  evils,  and  not  appeased 
by  the  flattery  itself  prepares,  refuses  to  have  the  abyss  of 
the  soul  exposed  and  explored  ;  and  the  mind  betakes 
itself  to  any  diversion  that  may  interrupt  the  dreaded  in- 
quiry. There  is  indeed  a  knowledge  of  the  profundities 
of  corruption  which  is  called  "  knowledge  of  human  na- 
ture ;"  but  falsely  so  called  ;  for  it  is  both  incomplete,  and 
extravagant : — it  is  satire  ;  not  truth  :  it  is  palliation  ;  not 
charity :  and  while  it  imputes  more  evil  intentions  than 
actually  exist ;  it  puts  a  glowing  of  fair  colours  upon  what 
is  really  odious.  How  should  any  one  know  and  confide 
in  another,  who  neither  knows,  nor  ever  heartily  confides 
in  himself  ? 

But  the  light  that  attends  the  entrance  of  the  divine 
word  diffuses  itself  through  all  concealments  of  the  heart. 
The  motives  of  secresy  being  destroyed,  nothing  can  long 
remain  hidden ;  and  that  new  ingenuousness  which  has 
been  imparted,  and  which  has  issued  in  an  unfeigned  con- 
fession of  guilt,  becomes,  more  or  less,  the  habit  of  the 
mind.  Pride,  heretofore  faithful  guardian  of  the  evil 
arcana  of  the  soul,  is  expelled  from  his  trust,  and  made 
to  leave  all  things  open  to  scrutiny.  The  time  is  the 
time  of  inquiry,  and  of  judgment ;  and  the  result  is  that 


238  SATURDAV  EVENING. 

peace  and  confidence — that  stillness  of  the  spirit,  which 
is  never  to  be  enjoyed  until  the  heart  of  man  has  dealt 
plainly  with  itself. 

Now  it  is  manifest  that  whoever  has  in  this  manner 
come  into  familiarity  with  himself,  has,  by  the  same 
means,  obtained  a  way  of  access  to  the  heart  of  those 
whom  he  believes  to  have  reached  the  same  point  of  self- 
knowledge.  The  hidden  world  has  been  explored  by 
both  parties  ;  and  many  thick  clouds  of  doubt  and  suspi- 
cion are  rolled  away  from  between  two  spirits,  each  of 
which  has  become  permeable  to  the  same  beams  of  light. 
The  Christian,  in  meeting  his  fellow  Christian,  tacitly 
says — "  This  is  one  who  knows  himself — has  made  frank 
confession  of  his  hidden,  faults — who  has  renounced  the 
pride  of  concealment,  and  who  sincerely  invites  the  eye  of 
God,  and  of  his  brethren.  We  may  differ  much  in  tem- 
perament ;  and  may  have  run  through  a  different  course ; 
but  the  conclusion  we  have  reached  is  substantially  the 
same  :  nor  does  his  heart  contain  any  capital  or  ruling 
motive  with  which  mine  can  have  no  sympathy."  Thus 
are  the  tedious  and  uncertain  preliminaries  of  worldly 
friendship  abridged,  or  superseded  ;  and  the  path  at  once 
laid  open  to  the  kindliness  and  familiarity  of  affection. 

Moreover,  on  this  same  principle  of  the  efficacy  of  know- 
ledge to  enehance  mutual  love,  the  affection  of  Christians, 
one  for  the  other,  derives  freedom  and  force  from  that 
simplification  of  motives  which  genuine  piety  produces. 
The  love  of  God  is  a  paramount  affection,  that  forcibly  car- 
ries in  its  train  other  inclinations,  and  leads  captive  a  host 
of  petty  wishes  and  ephemeral  desires.  This  is  the  mean- 
ing of  that  axiom — "  Ye  must,  to  enter  the  kingdom  of 
heaven,  become  as  little  children."  Simplicity  of  spirit, 
•ingleness  of  intention,  harmony  and  unison  of  all  emo- 


FAMILY  AFFECTION  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  239 

tions,  is  the  law  of  the  heavenly  world,  and  must  belong 
in  measure,  to  all  who  claim  part  therein.  There  can  be 
allowed  no  anarchy  of  the  passions  in  the  bosom  that  is  to 
lodge  the  Divine  Spirit ;  and  it  is  always  true  that  where 
Omnipotent  Grace  takes  possession  of  a  human  heart,  it 
expels  in  its  very  entrance  the  legion  of  lawless  desire. 
The  Christian,  therefore,  conscious  as  he  is  in  himself  of 
this  new  simplification  of  his  own  motives,  imputes  it 
without  fear  to  every  one  whom  he  believes  also  to  be  a 
Christian.  Thus  again  the  familiarity  of  mutual  know- 
ledge is  attained  by  the  riddance  that  is  made  of  the  crowd 
of  inferior  principles.  The  dark  surmises  and  threatening 
storms  of  ordinary  friendship  are  scattered,  as  the  gales  of 
spring  drive  away  the  vapours  aijd  congelations  of  win- 
ter. 

But  this  is  not  all  :  for  the  love  which  is  founded  on 
knowledge  must  have  its  delicacy,  and  its  peculiarity,  a- 
rising  from  the  individual  sentiments  and  personal  in- 
terest of  the  parties.  And  it  is  so  in  Christian  love  ;  for 
while  the  great  motives  of  the  Gospel  reduce  the  multiplicity 
and  confusion  of  the  passions  by  their  commanding  force 
they  do,  by  the  very  same  energy,  expand  all  sensibilities  ; 
or  (if  we  might  so  speak)  send  the  pulse  of  life  with  vi- 
gour through  the  finer  vessels  of  the  moral  system  :  there 
is  far  less  apathy,  and  a  far  more  equable  consciousness 
in  the  mind  after  it  has  admitted  Christianity,  than  be- 
fore ;  and,  by  necessary  consequence,  there  is  more  indi- 
viduality, because  more  life.  Christians,  therefore,  while 
they  understand  each  other  more  readily  than  other  men 
do,  have  far  more  of  sentiment  to  make  the  subject  of  con- 
verse than  others.  The  comparison  of  heart  with  heart . 
knits  heart  to  heart,  and  communicates  to  friendship  very 
much  that  is  sweet  and  intense. 


240  SATURDAY"  EVENING. 

The  domestic  affections  derive  a  good  part  of  their 
power,  as  well  as  constancy,  from  the  recollection  that  the 
ties  of  nature  are  indissoluble  :  and  again,  from  this  feel- 
ing, there  springs  another,  which,  when  love  is  genuine, 
acquires  an  intensity  of  force,  and]  the  property  of  which 
is  to  reject,  with  agony,  the  supposition  of  final  separation, 
even  at  the  most  distant  period.     We  have  already  ob- 
served, and  it  is  a  most  important  truth,  that  the  immortal 
instincts  of  the  human  spirit — its  destination  to  a  future 
life,  are  brought  out  into  activity  by  the  social  sentiments  : 
and  no  one  will  question  this  who  has  in  truth  known 
the  tenderness  and  vivacity  of  love.     The  beneficent  in- 
tentions of  the  Author  of  our  nature  are  eminently  seen  in 
this  part  of  our  moral  constitution.     The  social  affections 
have  a  precarious  season  of  growth,  during  which  they 
are  exposed  to  much   injury  ;   or  sometimes  to  absolute 
extinction,  from  the  disgusts,  indiscretions,  and  caprices, 
that,  even  in  the   most  favourable  instances,  infest  the 
family  circle  :  and  if  it  were  not  for  the  appointment  of 
God,    and   the   usuages   of  society,    which    cement   the 
domestic  body,  nothing   would  be  more  frequent  than 
those  eruptions  of  passion  which  would  in  a  moment 
scatter  and  desolate  families.     To  the  strength  of  the  ties 
of  nature,  society  at  large  owes  its  order  and  repose,  even 
where  love  scarcely  exists,  or  has  little  influence.     But  on 
those  sunny  spots  where  the  tender  emotions  bloom   and 
reach  their  perfection,  the  indissoluble  bond,  which   is  not 
at  all  felt  as  a  yoke,  is  regarded  with  delight ;  and  the 
sentiment  connected   with   it  is   fondly   cherished,  as  it 
afforded  security  both  against  the  chances  of  fortune,  and 
the  power  of  the  grave.     "  We  are  one — for  ever  one  ! 
neither  the  storms  of  life,  nor  the  hand  of  death,  shall  part 
us  !"     This  is  always  the  foud  emphatic  language  of  true 
love. 


FAMILY  AFFECTION  OF  CHRISTIANITY.        241. 

The  analogy  holds  good  in  Christian  affection  ;  al- 
though the  comprehensiveness  of  this  emotion,  or  its 
partition  among  many  objects,  abates  proportionabiy,  at 
present,  its  intensity.  But  future  ciicumstances  may 
perhaps  raise  it  to  the  highest  imaginable  degree  of  force. 

The  relative  condition  of  the  Christian  body,  as  hitherto 
it  has  existed  in  the  world,  gives  it  always  much  of  the 
feeling  that  belongs  to  a  family,  or  a  small  and  distinct 
community,  barely  tolerated,  and  unkindly  received,  in  a 
foreign  land.  Everywhere  a  small  minority,  and  every- 
where, if  not  outraged,  scorned,  and  holding  in  common 
a  bright  hope  which  the  mass  of  mankind  treats  with 
contempt,  Christians  (in  proportion  to  the  vivacity  of  their 
faith)  cannot  but  cling  together  as  partners  in  obloquy 
and  danger.  This  feeling  is  distinctly  seen  in  operation, 
even  where  external  circumstances  most  tend  to  repress 
it ;  nor  is  there  any  sphere  within  which  spiritually-mind- 
ed persons  do  not  feel  that  they  need  each  other's  aid  and 
affection,  as  a  support  against  the  hostility  that  surrounds 
them.  It  is  no  misanthropic  sentiment  which  compels 
them  to  close  their  ranks,  and  present  a  front  of  defence 
against  the  malignant  crowd  that  hems  them  in.  "  Be- 
hold," said  their  Lord,  "  I  send  you  forth  as  sheep  among 
wolves ;" — nor  has  any  age  yet  passed  over  the  church, 
which  afforded  no  exemplification  of  the  truth  thus  em- 
ically  conveyed. 

And  moreover  Christians,  when  vividly  impressed  with 
the  momentous  facts  on  which  their  faith  is  fixed,  are 
conscious  of  their  partnership  in  the  awful  transactions  of 
the  invisible  world.  The  men  whose  thoughts  are  bound- 
ed by  the  present  life,  hurry  along  upon  the  broad  way  of 
pleasure  and  business  exchanging,  as  they  go,  the  trivial 
courtesies  of  the  moment ;  but  mutually  indifferent,  as 
22 


242  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

those  must  needs  be,  who  soon  are  to  part,  by  plunging, 
severally  and  alone,  into  the  shoreless  oblivion  of  death. 
Not  so  with  the  followers  of  Christ.  They  stand  in  close 
order,  as  a  phalanx  that  has  yet  a  foe  to  meet — a  victory 
to  achieve,  and  a  triumph  to  enjoy.  A  common  solitude, 
and  a  common  hope,  bind  their  hearts  together.  Death 
divides  them,  but  it  is  only  as  the  successive  ranks  of  a 
host  are  divided,  when  summoned,  in  turn,  to  advance  and 
pass  singly  a  perilous  defile.  Beyond  that  strait  of  mo- 
mentary gloom  and  danger,  all  are  again  to  be  marshal- 
led ;  and  every  one  to  join  his  commander.  Christian 
affection,  therefore,  has  the  permanency  it  derives  from  an 
indissoluble  bond  ; — the  vigour  given  it  by  a  participation 
in  sufferings  and  reproaches  ; — and  the  depth  it  receives 
from  the  prospect  of  an  unbounded  futurity. 

And  may  we  not  (adhering  still  to  sound  principles  of 
calculation)  look  even  into  that  futurity,  and  imagine 
faintly  the  enhancement  which  shall  be  given  to  the  prin- 
ciples that  are  now  in  their  stage  of  germination.  Let  it 
then  be  remembered,  that  to  remove  from  any  energy  its 
antagonist,  is  the  same  thing  as  to  impart  to  it  a  new  force. 
Only  remove  from  the  affections  of  earth  all  dregs  of 
malignity,  all  chills  of  apathy,  all  suspicions,  all  discretions, 
all  errors  in  matters  of  fact,  and  all  opposition  of  interest 
and  how  brightly  would  they  burn  !  Heaven  shall  effect 
this  liberation  of  love  from  its  thraldoms.  Nor  is  this  all ; 
for  if  love  is  to  get  purity  and  elevation  from  its  expansion 
or  enlargement,  it  must  owe  its  intensity  to  its  direction 
toward  specific  objects  :  and  it  may  well  be  conceived  that 
when  the  ransomed  myriads  of  mankind  shall  corne  to 
take  their  station  in  the  great  circle  of  a  far  larger  and 
more  ancient  community,  and  shall,  in  degree,  be  blended 
in  the  universal  family  of  Heaven,  a  fresh  sanction  shall 


FAMILY  AFFECTION  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  243 

be  given  to  the  relationship  that  originated  on  earth  ; — 
that  the  progeny  of  Adam,  yes,  and  much  more,  the 
brethren  of  the  Second  Adam — the  "  Lord  from  heaven," 
shall  be  bound  together  anew,  in  office,  neighbourhood, 
and  destiny ;  so  that  the  fondness  of  a  tie  strictly  indisso- 
luble shall  be  communicated  to  the  affection  that  originat- 
ed in  their  primeval  abode. 

Not  improbably  (if  we  regard  the  great  laws  of  the 
world  of  Mind)  the  speciality  as  well  as  the  universality 
of  love  shall  have  place  in  the  future  economy.  And  the 
personal  tenderness  of  immemorial  attachment  shall  go 
along  with  all  spirits,  through  interminable  eras.  The 
redeemed  of  the  earth,  known  perhaps  on  all  the  plains 
of  joy,  and  at  once  distinguishable,  by  the  specific  contour 
of  their  celestial  forms,  shall  be  companions  of  eternity. 
May  we  not  then,  while  forgetting  the  imperfections,  and 
the  obscurity,  and  the  feebleness,  that  attach  to  this  pre- 
sent wintry  season  of  the  heart,  fairly  impute  to  our 
Christian  friendships  a  value  drawn  from  the  treasures  of 
futurity  ?  This  at  least  is  certain — how  much  soever  we 
may  err  in  matters  of  particular  conjecture — that  while 
earth  and  its  ephemeral  interests  are  hastening  to  oblivion 
whatever  is  divine,  whatever  partakes  of  the  nature  of 
the  immutable  attributes  of  God,  must  be  indestructible ; 
and  must  grow  until  it  attains  perfection.  Every  article 
of  human  knowledge  may  be  deemed  untrue,  sooner 
than  this — "  That  Love  is  of  God,"  and  u  shall  never 
fail." 


XX. 
CHARITY  AND  CONSCIENCE. 

"  For  Meat  destroy  not  the  Work  of  God." 


WHILE  we  are  looking  on  the  side  of  human  nature, 
we  are  too  often  impelled  to  believe  that  the  principle  of 
conscience  is,  of  all  the  powers  that  have  any  influence 
over  the  conduct  of  men,  the  most  lax,  nugatory,  and 
inefficacious :  but  then  if  we  turn  to  another  side>  it  as 
often  appears  peremptory,  intractable  and  stubborn.  In 
those  matters  of  morality  which  are  comprehended  under 
the  heads  of  justice,  temperance,  moderation,  and  mercy ; 
it  seems  as  if  human  ingenuity  were  never  to  be  baffled 
in  its  attempts  to  reconcile  the  impulses  of  appetite,  or  the 
suggestions  of  interest,  with  the  dictates  of  conscience  ; — 
or,  in  other  words,  as  if  conscience  were  the  most  bland, 
patient,  and  compliant  of  all  authorities.  Yet  how  can 
we  grant  it  this  praise  when  we  see  with  what  rigour, 
with  what  precision,  with  what  sternness,  this  same  dicta- 
tor gives  sentence  in  questions  relating  to  the  doctrine,  or 
the  ritual ; — to  the  substance,  or  the  forms  ; — the  theory, 
or  the  polity,  of  religion  ?  It  is  as  if  the  word  Conscience 
were  the  appellative  of  two  unconnected  personages,  of 
whom  the  one  is  as  austere  as  the  other  is  indulgent. 

But  it  is  not  so.  Man,  with  all  his  inconsistencies,  has 
but  one  faculty,  or  sense  of  right  and  wrong.  Nor  is  the 
supposition  of  sarcastic  and  irreligious  men  well  founded, 
who,  in  contemplation  of  such  facts,  draw  the  caustic 
conclusion — That  the  severity  of  conscience,  in  matters  of 
religion,  is  proved  to  be  hypocrisy,  by  its  laxity  in  matters 


CHARITY  AND  CONSCIENCE.  245 

of  morality  :  or  that  there  can  be  nothing  sincere  in  the 
zeal  and  scrupulosity  of  those  who  show  themselves  to  be 
far  from  punctilious  in  the  simple  and  intelligible  instances 
of  common  life— in  fair  dealing,  truth,  or  purity.  But 
there  is  as  much  of  rude  inaccuracy,  as  of  malice,  in  de- 
cisions of  this  sort;  and  if  those  who  thus  give  judgment 
upon  their  fellow-men,  and  who  ordinarily  pride  themselves 
not  a  little  upon  their  penetration,  could  only  see  some- 
what deeper  beneath  ihe  surface  of  human  motives,  they 
would  stand  convicted  of  ignorance,  as  well  as  harshness. 
The  human  mind,  even  in  the  best  samples,  is  far  from 
being  equally  quick,  or  sensitive,  in  all  its  faculties  ;  or 
equally  sentient  towards  all  the  objects  that  are  presented 
to  it:  ond  if  we  might  adopt  any  general  rule  by  means 
of  which  to  foreknow  when,  or  on  what  occasions,  the 
intellectual  and  moral  powers  will  be  alive,  and  when 
inert,  or  topid,  it  might  perhaps  be  this — That  they  are 
stimulated  most  certainly,  and  most  instantaneously,  by 
what  is  definite  ;  and  less  so  by  whatever  is  vague,  or  in- 
distinct. Now,  if  we  exclude  from  our  account,  instances 
of  absolute  knavery,  and  conscious  hypocrisy,  it  will  be 
found  that  religious  persons  are  in  fault  (a  hundred  in- 
stances to  one)  in  those  multifarious  matters  of  imperfect 
obligation  (as  they  have  been  termed)  to  which  the  rules 
of  right  and  wrong  are  not  readily  applicable,  and  which 
come  under  the  jurisdiction  only  of  pure  and  elevated 
habits  of  feeling.  But  the  religious  man  is  not  justly  to 
be  condemned  as  a  knave,  or  hypocrite,  because  he  has 
made  small  advances  in  the  higher  morality  of  the  spirit- 
ual life.  Yet  it  is  precisely  the  obtuseness,  shall  we  say 
the  vulgarity,  of  his  soul,  that  leaves  him  liable  to  commit 
hourly  offences  against  the  maxims  of  honour,  kindness, 
candour,  or  personal  virtue.  And  if  the  interior  of  his 

22* 


246  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

heart,  could  be  exposed,  it  would  probably  not  exhibit  any 
vivid  sense  of  culpability  on  such  occasions  ; — nothing,  in 
fact,  but  a  confused  consciousness  of  having'  been  rather 
too  little  on  his  guard,  against  his  besetting  sins.  Nay, 
such  persons  will  often  be  found  (from  the  want  of  effi- 
cient instruction  in  matters  of  morality]  altogether  un- 
conscious of  the  evil  of  certain  habits  and  practices,  which 
expose  them  to  the  most  grave  imputations. 

Meanwhile  the  case  is  quite  otherwise  in  reference  to 
points  of  theology,  or  to  questions  of  ritual,  or  polity.  And 
on  this  ground,  beside  that  the  matters  in  debate  have  all 
the  distinctness  which  the  anxiety  of  sacred  logic,  or  which 
the  synodical  wisdom  of  statutes  and  canons  can  secure  to 
them,  they  are  imagined  (by  a  most  strange  perversion  of 
right  reason)  to  stand  much  more  closely  related  to  the 
Divine  authority,  than  do  the  articles  of  vulgar  morality  : 
— as  if  God,  notwithstanding  his  solemn  affirmation  of  the 
contrary,  were  far  more  intent  upon  the  accuracy  of  creeds, 
and  the  legality  of  rites,  than  upon  the  observance  of  the 
rules  of  virtue.  Belief  and  icorshijt  are  things  of  Religion  ; 
— and  therefore  more  sacred  than  justice,  truth,  and  tem- 
perance. This  has  been,  in  all  ages,  the  current  delusion 
of  religionists. 

Every  man's  style,  or  rate  of  morality,  at  any  given 
period  of  his  life,  is  the  slowly  ripened  product  of  his  en- 
tire course  up  to  that  moment,  influenced,  as  it  has  been, 
by  personal  temperament,  by  secular  engagement.-,  l.y 
social  alliances,  and,  especially,  by  the  salubrity,  or  the 
infected  condition,  of  the  moral  atmosphere  he  has  breath- 
ed. Now  it  is  notof  a  product  so  gradually  formed,  so  in- 
timately related  to  the  habits  of  the  soul,  and  so  familiar 
to  it,  that  ordinary  minds  are  qualified  to  form  an  impar- 
tial estimate.  In  fact  very  few  men  judge  themselves, 


CHARITY  AND  CONSCIENCE.  247 

on  the  several  points  of  morality,  with  any  high  degree  of 
precision,  or  fairness.  And  then,  if  we  are  speaking  of 
the  religious — the  eager  discussion  that  are  always  rife  in 
the  Church  on  articles  of  belief,  or  ceremony,  engross  all 
the  attention  that  is  at  command  ; — so  that  little  or  no  lei- 
sure is  found  for  entertaining  the  comparatively  vapid 
questions  of  right  and  wrong,  in  the  things  of  common  life, 
No  energy  of  mind,  no  zeal  is  directed  towards  subjects 
of  this  class  ;  they  are  therefore  but  too  indistinctly  discern- 
ed by  the  generality  of  good  folks. 

But  this  want  of  vigour  in  the  moral  life  is  not  hypoc- 
risy ;  is  not  knavery  ;  and  is  perfectly  consistent,  not  only 
with  general  sincerity  in  religion,  but  with  a  vivid  and 
honest  zeal  for  what  is  deemed  "  divine  truth,"  and 
"  divine  authority,"  in  the  creed,  and  the  ritual. 

The  minds  of  men  are  alive,  to  the  extent  of  the  par- 
ticular excitements  that  are  acting  upon  them  :  and  when 
the  principles  of  conscience,  and  fear,  and  the  sentiments 
of  public  consistency,  or  party  obligation,  are  called  into 
activity  on  some  special  question,  all  the  religious  emo- 
tion of  which  the  individual  is  susceptible,  draws  towards 
it,  as  a  centre  ;  and  the  man's  piety,  entire,  just  goes  to 
fill  out  that  circle  of  controversy.  It  is  when  the  mind  is 
in  this  state,  that  there  takes  place  a  perilous  opposition 
between  the  two  principles  which  ought  always  to  harmo- 
nize— namely,  those  of  love  toward  the  brotherhood,  and 
of  zeal  and  fidelity  towards  God  and  his  truth.  In  too 
many  instances  the  latter  motive  prevails  over  the  former ; 
the  definite  over  the  indefinite  obligation,  and,  as  an  inev- 
itable consequence,  rancour,  maledictions,  and  schisms, 
burst  out,  and  devastate  the  precincts  of  celestial  peace. 

It  is  very  true,  and  must  never  be  forgotten,  that  the 
factions  which  have  divided  the  Christian  body,  have  owed 


248  SATUKJ;.\r   KVEIVING'. 

their  vivacity,  and  asperity,  to  the  ill  tempers,  or  the  ainb; 
tion  of  a  fc\v  individuals — those  demagogues  and  fan; 
whom  (lie,  Scripture  designates  as  <:  grievous  wolves.' 
J3ut  it  is  not  less  true,  though  less  regarded,  that  Religious 
discords  have  always  rested  upon  the  broader  foundation 
of  a  mistaken,  or  ill-informed  conscientiousness,  on  tin; 
part  of  the  people  at  large.  Without  this  firm  bottom, 
factions  quickly  become  mere  personal  feuds,  and  die  away, 
and  are  forgotten  in  a  summer.  The  heresiarch  well  un- 
derstands this  principle,  and  acts  upon  it  advisedly.  To 
make  /tiffi-wlf  simply,  or  his  personal  interests,  or  credit, 
the  object  of  popular  zeal,  were  an  enterprise  that  must 
soon  fall  to  the  ground.  So  must  the  attempt  to  keep 
malign  passions  in  a  state  of  irritation  without  a  specious 
occasion.  Conscience — -conscience  is  the  word,  that  is  to 
he  employed — The  "  truth  of  God"  is  to  he  asserted  and 
defended  at  all  risks;  and  "  the  enemies  of  Heaven,"  the 
contumacious  impugners  of  "  Divine  authority,"  are  to  be 
cursed,  avoided,  extirpated  ! 

We  do  little  if  we  just  depict  and  inveigh  against  the 
temper  and  proceedings  of  the  few  fanatical  agitators. 
Such  men  would  have  no  inlluence  at  all,  it'  they  did  not 
find  the  means,  of  pending  upon  certain  powerful  moi 
that  are  common  to  human  nature,  and  that  are  peculiarly 
vigorous  when  animated  by  religious  ideas.  We  ought 
therefore  to  endeavour  to  follow  home  the  principle,  upon 
the  working  of  which  the  spiritual  demagogue  calm! 
and  upon  which  the  stress  of  his  power  rests.  He  breeds 
animosity  among  brethren,  and  brings  the  worst  of  all 
scandals  upon  Chritianity  ;  but  he  docs  so  only  by  putting 
into  activity  a  motive  which  all  must  confess  to  be,  in  it- 
self, not  only  lawful,  but  an  indispensable  element  of  piety  ; 
namely,  zeal  for  the  purity  of  faith,  and  for  the  authority 


CHARITY  AND  CONSCIENCE.  249 

of  Christ.  Here  then  one  sound  principle  is  seen  to  over- 
pass and  trample  upon  another. — The  two  are  waging  war, 
and  the  one  triumphs  by  the  destruction  of  the  other.  But 
so  deplorable  a  contrariety  can  never  have  taken  place 
without  the  previous  admission  of  some  capital  error.  Our 
question  then  is  where  does  it  lie ;  and  what  is  its  defini- 
tion ? 

Nothing  in  Christianity  is  more  conspicuous  (nay,  it  is 
one  conspicuous  article  from  which  the  whole  system  de- 
rives its  character)  than  that  Christians  are  to  love  each 
other  unfeignedly,  as  brethren  ;  and  moreover  to  live  in 
the  constant  interchange  of  all  the  outward  and  visible  to- 
kens of  affection.  This  being  an  absolute  and  primary 
rule,  there  must  exist  a  capital  fault,  on  one  side,  or  both 
as  often  as  it  is  violated.  But  then  it  is  also  true  that,  of 
every  Christian  it  is  demanded,  as  the  test  of  his  allegiance 
to  Christ,  that  he  should  always  be  ready,  without  fear  or 
favour,  or  calculation  of  personal  "consequences,  to  profess 
and  defend  what  he  believes  to  be  the  Divine  Will  in  mat- 
ters of  belief  and  practice  :  in  other  words,  that,  in  the 
things  of  religion,  he  should  maintain  fealty  to  God,  at 
whatever  cost  or  risk  of  things  temporal.  Now  in  the  ac- 
tual state  of  the  world,  and  of  religious  profession  it  must 
often  happen  that  the  Christian's  fidelity  to  his  Lord  will 
place  him  in  opposition  (not  to  say  hostility)  to  the  great 
body  of  those  who  call  themselves  by  the  same  sacred 
name.  Such  occasions  seem  to  bring  into  contrariety  the 
two  great  principles  of  Love  and  Fidelity  ;  at  least  they 
demand  a  special  exercise  of  discretion  in  order  to  prevent 
the  clashing  of  the  two. 

Or  a  case  of  another  sort  may  easily  arise,  namely — 
that  of  individuals,  or  of  small  bodies,  who  in  much 
seriousness,  and  with  entire  sincerity,  having  unfortu- 
nately adopted  an  initial  erroneous  position,  from  which 


250  SATURDAY   EVENING. 

they  correctly  derive  inferences  that  would  be  quite  valid 
if  their  first  principle  were  sound,  are  drawn  on  to  think 
themselves  obliged  both  to  denounce  the  body  of  Christians 
as  grievously  corrupted  in  doctrine,  and  to  separate  them- 
selves from  their  fellowship.  Such  individuals,  or  parties, 
may  fully  persuade  themselves  that,  any  longer  tto  asso- 
ciate with  the  Church  at  large,  would  be  to  violate  their 
consciences.  In  instances  of  this  kind  we  have  the  double 
mischief  of  schism,  and  of  schism  without  occasion  ; — a 
feud  is  generated,  with  all  its  inseparable  virulence  ;  but 
a  feud  is  devoid  of  reason :  it  is  therefore  an  evil  not  com- 
pensated by  any  beneficial  result ;  it  is  not  remedial ;  not 
conservative.  And  yet  has  it  sprung  from  a  sound  prin- 
ciple ;  and  moreover  the  authors  of  it  are  men  sincere  and 
devout.  Where  then  is  the  false  assumption,  or  false 
inference,  by  means  of  which  a  pure  evil  has  derived 
itself  from  good  1  It  would  be  well  indeed  if  this  could 
be  ascertained. 

No  shadow  of  ambiguity  can  rest  upon  the  course  to  be 
pursued  by  one  who  receives  religious  principles  at  large, 
or  particular  instructions,  immediately  from  Heaven,  in 
the  way  of  unquestionable  miraculous  interposition  ;  and 
who  is  commanded  to  promulgate  what  he  has  so  learned. 
Whoever  bears  a  commission  of  this  sort,  may  calmly 
discharge  his  duty,  and  may  leave  all  consequences  to  the 
disposal  of  Him  who  has  foreseen  every  contingence. 
This  being  obvious,  it  seems  not  less  so,  that  the  absence 
of  miraculous  attestations  ought  to  make  some  differ- 
ence in  the  conduct,  or  at  least  in  the  style,  of  those  who, 
within  the  pale  of  the  church,  go  about  to  announce  new 
truths,  to  enforce  novel  practices,  or  to  condemn  that 
which  exists.  If  the  man  who  derives  his  peculiar 
religious  opinions  simply  (and  by  his  own  confession) 
from  his  personal  study  of  the  Scriptures,  and  who  has 


CHARITY  AND  CONSCIENCE.  251 

enjoyed  none  but  ordinary  aids,  and  who  can  advance  no 
pretension  which  other  men  may  not  also  challenge,  is 
entitled  to  speak  in  the  tone,  and  to  exercise  the  authority 
of  a  prophet  or  apostle,  then  what  was  the  necessity  for 
the  extroardinary  powers  where  with  prophets  and  apos- 
tles were  endowed  ?  Or  to  view  the  matter  on  another 
side ;  it  is  evident  that  there  can  be  no  right  of  speaking 
and  acting,  in  the  name  of  Heaven,  which  does  not  imply 
a  correlative  dut}r,  on  the  part  of  the  people,  to  yield  sub- 
mission to  such  authority.  But  the  church  will  then 
often  be  placed  in  the  dilemma  of  having  its  submission 
demanded  by  hostile  teachers — a  dilemma  which  has 
never  attended  the  ministry  of  men  who  indeed  confirmed 
their  testimony  by  miracles. 

We  should  not  for  a  moment  hold  controversy  with  the 
originator  of  a  separate  communion  on  the  question 
whether  he  ought  or  not  to  promulgate  the  will  of  Christ 
when  he  knows  it,  and  to  challenge  the  obedience  of  all 
men  to  that  will.  This  duty  is  granted.  But  we  may 
surely  ask  him  to  exhibit  his  credentials.  We  shall  be 
the  first  to  submit  to  his  dictation — the  first  to  become 
his  sectarists,  when  we  have  actually  seen  the  seal  of  heav- 
en in  his  hand,  and  are  satisfied  on  the  capital  point  of  his 
divine  legation. 

Times  of  extroardinary  fanatical  excitement  excepted, 
the  leaders  of  sects  do  not  allow  to  themselves  the  use  of 
language  which,  by  its  arrogance,  would  supply  its  own 
refutation.  But  the  occult  and  fundamental  principle  of 
all  ecclesiastical  despotism  on  the  one  side,  and  of  all 
factious  separation  on  the  other — of  all  religious  ran- 
cour and  hostility,  whether  it  be  avowed  or  not,  is  this 
assumption  of  Divine  authority  on  behalf  of  what  is 
simply  an  individual  opinion.  "  I  THINK  so,"  is  the 


252  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

whole  residuum  that  can  be  found  after  evaporating  tlu 
prodigious  pretensions  of  the  zealot-demagogue.     What  is 
this  "  will  of  the  Lord" — this  "  authority  of  Heaven" — 
this  "  sacred  cause  of  truth  and  righteousness?"     Nothing, 
absolutely  nothing  more  than — "  I  think  so."     Stript  the 
schismatic's  declamation  of  its  finery  and  its  sublimity  ;  of 
its  thunder  and   its  fire ;    and   there  remains  just   this 
meagre,  and  scarcely  visible  particle,  the  intrinsic  value  of 
which  it  would  be  impossible  to  express. 

Yet  no  delusion  is  more  natural,  or  more  easily  fallen 
into,  or  more  hard  to  be  dissipated,  than  that  of  the  sincere 
and .  devout,  though  arrogant  dogmatist,  who  persuades 
himself  (and  others)  to  feel,  and  to  speak,  and  to  act,  with 
more  confidence  and  intolerance  than  those  ever  showed 
who  were  intrusted  with  the  power  of  raising  the  dead. 
The  enthusiasm  and  the  spirit  of  exaggeration  which 
attend  always  a  long-continued  and  exclusive  attention  to 
a  single  subject,  and  which,  so  often,  render  the  mathema- 
tician, the  physiologist,  the  artist,  or  the  man  of  letters, 
absurd,  are  incalculably  enhanced  by  the  more  profound 
emotions  that  belong  to  religion.  Now  though  this  feeling 
of  the  infinite  importance  of  religious  truth  is  perfectly 
reasonable  when  religious  truth  in  the  aggregate  is  its 
object,  and  which  can  never  become  exorbitant  when 
any  one  of  the  great  principles  of  faith  is  in  question, 
is  ineffably  preposterous  when  attached  to  the  private  ex- 
positions of  this  or  that  individual.  The  dogmatist  is  not 
wrong  in  believing  and  affirming,  that  the  pure  sense  of 
the  Inspired  Writings  is  of  more  price  than  much  fine 
gold  ;  nor  wrong  in  bestowing  his  zealous  labours  upon 
the  worthy  employment  of  seeking  to  obtain  this  pure 
sense ;  nor  wrong  in  giving  utterance  to  the  results  of  his 
studies,  and  his  prayers :  and  whoever  would  interrupt  him 


CHARITY  AND  CONSCIENCE.  253 

in  this  work,  or  would  dare  to  restrain  him  in  the  promul- 
gation of  his  opinions,  is  guilty  of  the  most  atrocious  of 
all  outrages.  But  alas  !  it  is  neither  the  private  and  per- 
sonal enjoyment  of  the  true  sense  of  Scripture,  that 
contents  the  dogmatist ;  nor  the  full  liberty  to  prosecute 
his  inquiries  ;  nor  the  unbounded  tolerance  of  his  public 
labours.  None  of  these  things  satisfy  his  zeal :  nor  is  the 
fervour  of  his  spirit  at  all  assuaged  by  what  (one  would 
think)  the  pleasing  spectacle  of  the  general  church  (though 
erroneous,  as  he  thinks,  in  particulars)  yet  possessed  of 
the  fundamental  principles  of  piety.  All  this  is  as  nothing 
so  long  as  submission  is  withheld  to  his  exposition,  which 
is  indeed — li  The  sense  of  Scripture," 

To  allay  in  some  measure  the  uneasiness  which  the 
obstinacy  and  contumacy  of  the  Christian  world  occasions 
him,  the  dogmatist  first  enhances,  by  all  means,  his  own 
inward  conviction  of  the  truth  of  his  doctrine :  and  for 
this  purpose  he  has  recourse  to  the  excitements  of  devotion, 
as  well  as  to  the  corroboration  of  argument.  Then  he 
surrounds  himself  with  coadjutors,  flatterers  (if  he  can) ; 
and  after  kindling  the  lights  of  their  zeal  from  his  own 
candle,  comforts  himself  in  the  general  warmth  that  is 
thus  produced.  Furthermore  he  confirms  both  his  faith  and 
his  courage,  by  uttering  aloud  his  contempt  and  condem- 
nation of  all  gainsayers :  and  lastly,  to  prove  ostensibly 
the  depth  and  sincerity  of  his  convictions,  he  cuts  himself 
off  from  the  corrupt  body  of  the  church  ;  and  solemnly 
turning  to  the  train  of  his  adherents,  says, — "  Come  out, 
and  touch  not  the  unclean." 

But  it  will  be  said  ;  and  we  would  not  wait  to  be  re- 
minded of  the  fact — That  there  is  a  probability,  perhaps 
a  high  probability,  that  the  man  whom  we  have  termed 
a  dogmatist,  and  spoken  of  with  reprobation,  is  one  whom 

23 


254  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

the  Lord  has  taught,  and  sent  forth,  to  inveigh  against 
prevailing  corruptions.  Was  not  Wicliffe  such  ?  Were 
not  Huss,  and  Luther,  such  ?  Or  if  we  were  to  pass  by 
the  few  signal  instances,  concerning  which  no  dispute  can 
well  arise — let  what  may  be  called  the  average  proba- 
bility, in  the  case  of  the  reformer,  and  the  innovator,  be 
thus  stated — That  he  has  got  possession  of  some  single 
truths,  more  or  less  important,  which  the  church  has  for- 
gotten, or  discarded,  and  which  he  asserts  :  but  in  doing 
so,  mingles  with  them  a  considerable  proportion  of  mere 
extravagance  and  folly.  Even  the  illustrious  Chiefs  of 
reformation  must  take  their  part  in  such  an  acknowledg- 
ment :  much  more  the  host  of  less  noble  innovators. 

Now  if  we  are  to  speak  of  this  ordinary  case,  as  it  stands 
between  the  general  body  of  Christians,  and  the  man  who 
denounces  particular  errors  ;  it  is  quite  plain  that  an  ad- 
herence, on  his  part,  to  the  modest  course  of  plainly  declar- 
ing his  opinion,  and  quietly  setting  forth  the  reasons  of  it ; 
and  entreating  the  attention  of  his  brethren,  promises  to 
be  productive  of  as  much  good  as  is  likely  to  result  from 
his  petulant  separation.  If  indeed  the  general  body  will 
not  tolerate  any  such  expression  of  private  opinion — if  it 
attempts  to  impose  silence  upon  him,  to  crush  him  ;  if,  in 
the  true  spirit  of  obdurate  folly,  it  will  "  hear  no  reproofs," 
and  casts  forth  the  troublesome  member  ;  then  the  whole 
blame  of  division  rests  with  the  body,  not  with  the  dissi- 
dent individual  The  church  is  the  Schismatic,  when  it 
has  no  ear,  and  no  indulgence,  for  diversities  of  sentiment. 

But,  in  the  great  majority  of  the  instances  which  church 
history  presents  to  us,  the  leader  of  factions  has  not  asked 
—has  not  seemed  to  wish,  for  that  sort  of  indulgence 
which  would  imply,  on  his  part,  a  corresponding  modesty 
and  moderation,  He  demands  unconditional  submission 


CHARITY  AND  CONSCIENCE.  255 

to  the  points  he  insists  on,  as  if  he  could  claim  divine  au- 
thority for  each  article  of  his  private  creed.  And  indeed 
this  supposition  runs  through  all  his  ideas — inflates  all  his 
language — exaggerates  the  whole  of  his  behaviour — 
stiffens  his  inflexibility,  and  animates  his  courage  in 
suffering. 

Is  it  denied  that  the  dogmatic  sectarist  ordinarily  assumes 
any  such  divine  authority  to  attach  to  his  peculiar  opin- 
ions ?  He  is,  we  grant,  rarely  guilty  of  so  much  presump- 
tion in  explicit  words.  Nevertheless  he  proceeds  as  far  in 
act  as  he  could  do  if  every  syllable  of  his  creed  had  been 
authenticated  by  signs  from  heaven.  First  he  scorns  and 
lays  aside  the  modest  phraseology  of  one  who  simply 
declares  a  private  opinion,  and  as  modestly  shows  his 
reason.  Prophets  and  apostles  have  done  no  more  than 
thus  use  the  absolute  style  of  infallible  knowledge.  Then 
he  excommunicates  all  who  do  not  submit  to  his  peculiar 
notions,  and  declares  them  unworthy  of  his  fellowship. 
What  more  than  this  could  be  done  by  him  who  said- 
''  If  I  come,  I  will  give  a  proof  of  Christ  speaking  in  me"  1 
Those  numerous  passages  of  Scripture  which  at  once  en- 
join mutual  forbearance,  and  forbid  division  on  any  points 
not  manifestly  necessary  to  Christian  belief,  are  so 
thoroughly  perspicuous,  that,  being  confessedly  of  divine 
authority,  they  must  demand  nothing  less  than  an  equally 
clear  announcement  from  the  same  source,  to  abrogate  or 
hold  them  in  abeyance.  Whoever  therefore  does  so  treat 
them  as  a  nullity,  virtually  pretends  to  an  unquestionable 
conveyance  of  the  divine  will  to  himself  in  that  particular. 

The  will  of  Christ  is — That  his  followers,  notwith- 
standing many  diversities  of  opinion,  should  remain  in 
love  and  communion.  Whoever  then,  on  pretence  of 
obedience  to  Christ,  breaks  up  this  communion,  assumes 


256  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

to  himself  a  direct  commission  from  Heaven  to  that  eflect. 
The  prohibition  of  church  divisions  is  as  explicit  and  in- 
telligible as  the  prohibition  of  murder ;  and  if  a  miracu- 
lous attestation  must  be  demanded  of  the  manslayer  who 
violates  the  one,  so  must  it  of  the  separatist  who  contemns 
the  other.  This  principle  is  in  fact  tacitly  acknowledged, 
and  has  always  been  assumed,  on  both  sides  of  religious 
discords : — the  despotic  beholders  of  ecclesiastical  power, 
in  their  persecutions,  and  the  separatists  in  their  resistance 
and  remonstrance,  have,  in  every  ease,  claimed  for  their 
doctrine  and  practice  the  weight  of  DIVINE  AUTHORITY. 
The  world  (and  the  church)  is  incalculably  indebted  for 
the  degree  of  repose  that  is  actually  enjoyed,  to  the  con- 
servative inertness  of  the  human  mind,  which  holds  it 
always  far  short  of  the  goal  of  extravagance  to  which 
otherwise  it  would  often  run.  And  both  are,  to  the  same 
effect,  indebted  to  those  motives  of  interest  and  fear,  which 
hush  evil  passions  more  effectually  than  reason  or  human- 
ity ;  and  (once  more)  to  that  under-current  of  common 
sense,  which  sets  strongly  athwart  the  course  of  agitators, 
and  gives  a  great  degree  of  steadiness  to  the  general 
movements  of  the  social  system.  What  would  man  be  if 
it  were  not  for  his  happy  inconsistencies  ?  What,  if  he 
fulfilled  every  hasty  resolution,  and  acted  in  entire  accor- 
dance with  every  abstract  principle  ?  The  peace  of  the 
church  (it  is  to  be  feared)  is  attributable  almost  as  much  to 
the  sedative  causes  we  have  just  named,  as  to  the  operation 
of  better  principles.  It  is  manifest  that  if  every  Christian 
followed  up,  completely,  the  doctrine  which  is  advanced  to 
justify  separation  on  secondary  points,  every  Christian 
must  be,  a  church  to  himself; — at  once — the  teacher,  and 
the  taught.  With  a  volume  in  his  hand  so  large  and 
multifarious  as  the  Bible  ;  an  ancient  book  too,  which  is 


CHARITY  AND  CONSCIENCE.  257 

known  only  by  interpretation  ;  a  book  which  contains,  as 
history,  very  much  that  is  not  rule  or  code — with  such  a 
book  in  his  hand,  and  with  his  ignorance,  his  inclinations, 
and  his  fancy,  as  his  assessors  in  judgment,  what  would 
be  the  consequence  if  every  one  actually  attributed  to  the 
whole  of  his  sense  of  the  meaning  of  Scripture,  the 
solemn  authority  and  importance  which,  as  a  Sectarist,  he 
attributes  to  certain  points  of  it  1  And  yet  he  would  be 
much  perplexed  if  required  to  show  why  certain  private 
interpretations,  of  which  he  says  little  or  nothing,  should 
not  have  as  much  honour  done  them  as  those  other  points 
that  divide  him  from  the  communion  of  the  general  church. 
He  would  probably  reply — "  These  are  nothing  more  than 
my  private  opinions,  concerning  which  it  becomes  me  to 
be  very  diffident,"  And  what  more  or  better  are  those 
matters  of  strife  which  distinguish  his  sect  ?  They  are 
precisely — private  opinions,  concerning  which  it  does 
indeed  behove  him  to  be  very  diffident — unless  he  is  pre- 
pared to  claim  for  them  the  sanction  of  immediate  revela- 
tion. Let  him  but  narrowly  sift  his  ideas,  and  he  will 
certainly  find  that  the  opinions  of  which  he  speaks  with 
caution,  and  for  the  sake  of  which  he  would  shudder  to 
break  communion  with  his  friends,  differ  absolutely  in 
nothing  (but  their  subject)  from  those  other  articles  which, 
by  some  fatality,  have  come  to  be  inscribed  in  crimson 
letters  upon  the  banners  of  faction.  Nevertheless  the  awe 
and  power  of  the  Divine  sanction  have  been  arbitrarily 
attached  to  the  one  set  of  interpretations,  and  not  to  the 
other.  He  may  perhaps  persuade  himself  that  the  opin- 
ions that  make  him  a  sectarist  have  stronger  evidence 
than  those  which  he  holds  in  silence  :  but  he  will  be  com- 
pelled, in  many  instances,  at  least,  to  confess  that  this  is 
not  the  fact.  Or  he  may  allege  that  the  one  are  intrinsi- 

23* 


258  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

cally  more  important  than  the  other.  But  here  again  he 
would  find  himself  grievously  embarrassed  if  urged  to 
establish  the  nice  point  of  relative  value  in  matters  of 
doctrine  or  practice. 

The  plain  fact  is,  that  the  course  of  events,  political  and 
ecclesiastical,  the  progress  or  depression  of  religious  know- 
ledge, at  different  eras ;  and,  not  least,  the  intellectual 
peculiarities  and  passions  of  some  few  prominent  individ- 
uals, have  combined  to  bring  under  discussion  (as  it  were 
by  chance)  particular  interpretations  of  Scripture  ;  leaving 
in  the  shade  innumerable  other  points  which  might  as 
well  have  been  thrown  upon  the  stage  of  strife  j  while  to 
the  one,  and  not  to  the  other,  though  all  are  alike  precious 
as  portions  of  the  same  Revelation,  there  has  been  attri- 
buted the  authority  of  God,  so  that  it  became  matter  of 
conscience  to  insist  upon  them,  as  conditions  of  fellowship. 

But  it  is  a  truth  which  should  never  be  lost  sight  of,  that 
sectarianism  is  always  what  ecclesiastical  despotism  makes 
it.  This  has  found  its  verification  in  our  own  country ; 
nor  is  there  any  general  principle,  perhaps,  that  more  ur- 
gently demands,  at  the  present  moment,  the  attentive 
consideration  of  enlightened  and  liberal  minds.  Let  it  be 
granted  that,  both  in  the  order  of  nature,  and  the  order  of 
time  (to  use  a  scholastic  distinction)  the  sectarist  moves 
before  the  despot ;  or  that  the  former  is  the  originator  of 
church  feuds.  We  will  grant  this,  though  instances 
might  be  adduced  which  have  quite  a  contrary  aspect ; — 
just  as  the  petulance  and  rigour  of  a  father  is  often  the  first 
cause  of  rebellion  in  his  family.  But  let  the  concession  be 
assumed  as  true  ;  it  may  still  safely  be  affirmed  that  the 
lust  of  spiritual  domination  (foul  passion— enormous 
crime !)  has  imparted  almost  all  the  mischievous  force  it 
has  actually  exerted  to  religious  factions.  Thus  the  ex- 


CHARITY  AND  CONSCIENCE.  259 

plosion  of  combustible  matter  is  rendered  fatal  by  confine- 
ment and  compression. 

Among  the  many  evil  consequences  (too  '  many  to  be 
soon  enumerated)  of  that  most  flagitious  of  all  outrages — 
the  outrage  that  is  committed  by  ecclesiastical  power  upon 
the  souls  of  men — the  one  we  have  now  to  do  with  pe- 
culiarly claims  to  be  noticed,  inasmuch  as  it  especially 
affects  the  spirit  of  religious  parties  in  the  British  empire  ; 
nor  only  so  ;  but  has  needlessly  transmitted  its  agency  to 
the  new  world,  where  it  can  have  no  pretence  for  exerting 
any  influence. 

The  despotism  of  the  Romish  Church — a  despotism 
which,  without  any  heat,  or  any  improper  extension  of  the 
meaning  of  words,  may  be  called  DIABOLICAL,  was  indeed 
successfully  withstood  ;  and  yet  was  not  discerned,  or  for 
its  own  sake  abhorred,  by  the  Reformers.  They  fought 
the  tyranny  of  Rome  ;  but  they  fought  not  with  spiritual 
tyranny  in  the  abstract.  That  same  church-usurpation, 
headed  up  during  the  course  of  many  silent  ages,  to  a 
prodigious  height,  within  the  Papal  enclosure,  broke  as  a 
deluge  over  all  the  ground  of  the  Reformed  Church,  and 
filled,  to  the  brim,  every  cavity  of  the  foundations  on 
which  the  new  structures  were  to  be  reared.  The 
arch-enemy  of  mankind  consoled  himself  under  the  loss 
of  so  many  fair  provinces  and  kingdoms  of  his  visible 
empire,  by  contemplating  the  extension,  through  every 
one  of  those  dissevered  realms,  of  the  first  principle  of  the 
ancient  corruption  :  and  less  than  satanic  sagacity  might 
forsee  that,  church  tyranny — pure  or  impure  in  creed  and 
worship,  would  soon 'bring  true  religion  again  to  its  lowest 
ebb. 

The  transferred  spirit  of  despotism,  which  was  allowed 
to  animate  the  whole  of  our  new  and  reformed  ecclesias- 


260  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

tical  institutions,  encountered  at  once,  as  was  inevitable 
among  a  people  like  the  natives  of  the  British  soil  (when 
quickened  by  knowledge  and  piety)  an  unconquerable 
resistance.  Let  every  nation  of  the  continent  bow,  one 
after  another,  and  kiss  again  that  iron  sceptre — the  iron 
whereof  *'  entereth  the  soul."  Let  all  Christendom  beside, 
in  feigned  humility,  drink  again  the  cup  of  the  stench  of 
priestly  debauchery  and  pride  : — the  men  of  the  British 
islands — or  the  Christians  among  them,  would  no  more 
become  thus  vile  in  the  sight  of  Heaven,  and  in  their  own 
estimation.  Nay,  this  is  but  half  the  truth  ; — for  God 
would  not  permit  that  all  the  earth  should  be  enslaved 
anew  ;  and  to  prevent  it,  He  gave  courage  to  multitudes 
of  the  Christians  of  Britian,  that  they  might  contend 
(through  the  tedious  years  of  two  centuries)  with  the  pallid, 
mitred,  inhuman,  monsters  of  Church  Power ;  and  with 
a  succession  of  ferocious  or  dotard  queens  and  kings. — 
They  did  so  contend,  and  at  the  last  blood  was  stayed  : — 
the  priest  was  foiled ;  and  England  was  freed  ! 

England  was  freed  !  what  does  it  not  owe  to  the  men 
(with  all  their  faults)  yes  and  to  the  women  too,  and  the 
babes  (for  the  priest  loves  always  the  most  delicate  victims) 
whose  tears,  and  groans  and  patience;  whose  imprisonments 
and  desolate  wanderings;  whose  torments  and  lamentable 
deaths,  were  the  price  of  its  deliverance.  This  debt  is 
strictly  incalculable ;  not  only  because  the  benefits  so 
obtained  are  more  than  can  be  distinctly  reckoned  ;  but 
because  the  happy  consequences  are  even  now  in  full  flow 
over  our  own,  and  other  countries  ;  and  are  promising  to 
run  down  with  a  swollen  stream  to  all  future  times. 
Fairly  may  it  be  questioned  whether  if  in  that  long  struggle 
the  Priest  had  vanquished  the  Puritan,  England  would 
not  at  this  moment  have  been — as  Spain !  Fairly,  we 


CHARETY  AND  CONSCIENCE.  261 

say,  and  on  solid  ground  of  philosophical  calculation  may 
it  be  surmised,  that  if  Church  Power  had  then  prevailed 
over  its  victims,  not  a  residue  of  English  liberty  would 
have  been  saved.  But  the  liberty  of  religion  being  once 
rescued,  that  most  potent  of  all  the  elements  of  freedom, 
drawing  with  it,  by  an  indissoluble  alliance,  all  other  ele- 
ments, has  preserved  for  our  use  and  enjoyment  whatever 
ennobles  us  among  the  nations — knowledge  and  philoso- 
phy— commerce  and  courage,  with  their  attendant  wealth 
and  power ; — as  well  as  that  political  framework  which 
has  been  the  admiration  and  envy  of  the  world. 

England,  we  say,  has,  by  the  indulgent  providence  of 
God,  been  delivered  from  the  worst  of  all  evils : — the 
worst,  because  big  with  every  other.  Yet  has  it  not  been 
absolutely  purged  of  the  inveterate  poison  of  spirtual  arro- 
gance. And  how  much  soever  the  course  of  events,  and 
the  temper  of  the  age,  may  seem  to  secure  us  against  the 
return  of  the  old  usurpation,  there  is  room  to  affirm  that 
vigilance  in  this  behalf  should  not  for  a  moment  be  inter- 
mitted ;  and  that  all  men,  irrespectively  of  their  regard  to 
religion,  should  be  awake  and  ready  both  to  repel  its  insi- 
dious advances,  and  to  drive  it  continually  on  to  narrower 
and  still  narrower  ground,  until  itself  is  fain  to  take  a  last 
leap  into  the  pit  whence  first  it  issued. 

But  we  return  to  our  position.  That  the  well  remem- 
bered struggle  between  Conscience  and  Church  Power,  to 
the  issue  of  which  we  owe  all  our  liberties  ;  and  the  still 
extant  murmurs  and  restless  movements  of  the  same  van- 
quished tyranny,  operate  very  powerfully,  and  in  a  man- 
ner much  to  be  lamented,  upon  our  religious  parties.  The 
Dissident,  habituated,  and  taught  to  think  of  his  dissidence 
as  a  laudable  and  necessary  opposition  to  ecclesiastical 
usurpation,  and  feeling,  too,  the  close  and  constant  connex- 


262  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

ion  between  religious  and  civil  liberty,  loses  sight,  almost 
entirely,  of  the  religious  mischiefs  of  division.  A  bold 
assertion  of  the  rights  of  Conscience  is  his  praise,  his  pride, 
and  his  nobilit}r ;  for  he  deems  it  a  bright  nobility  to  stand 
as  successor  to  the  men  who,  at  the  dearest  price,  bought 
religious  liberty  for  England.  Separation,  in  his  view,  is 
decked  with  a  nimbus  of  glory.  Nothing  can  dissolve  in 
his  mind  the  association  between  the  recollection  of  wor- 
thies, more  illustrious  than  dukedoms  could  have  made 
them,  and  this  same  separation,  which  it  has  now  become 
his  turn  to  support. 

Thus  advantaged  by  its  association  with  the  most  ani- 
mating emotions,  the  idea  of  restricted  and  party  com- 
munion contains  little  or  nothing  which  shocks  the  Chris- 
tian sentiments  of  the  pious  dissident ; — much  less  of  the 
irreligious  one :  and  even  in  reference  to  other  bodies, 
where  no  plea  remains  for  calling  up  the  virtue  of  resist- 
ance to  tyranny,  the  same  feeling  extends  itself.  Division, 
if  indeed  granted  to  be  abstractedly  an  evil,  is  seen  always 
through  the  golden  mist  which  exhales  from  many  not- 
forgotten  fields  of  glorious  triumph  ! 

A  verv  easy  and  -natural  confusion  of  thought  persuades 
any  one  who  holds  the  doctrine  of  the  right  of  men  to 
think  and  act  for  themselves  in  matters  of  religion  with  the 
most  absolute  freedom — that  this  civil  privilege  contains 
within  itself,  or  conveys  a  religious  right,  or  a  right  as 
member  of  the  Church  of  Christ,  to  act  with  the  same  dis- 
regard of  the  opinions,  or  the  welfare,  or  the  prejudices,  of 
his  brethren.  On  all  occasions  where  forbearance  might 
be  called  for,  the  Briton  kindles,  and  the  Christian  gives 
way.  "  Is  not,"  he  will  say,  "  the  right  of  private  judg- 
ment surrendered,  or  made  nugatory,  when  it  is  asked  of 
me  to  hold  a  private  conviction  in  abeyance,  or  to  remit  its 


CHARITY  AND  CONSCIENCE.  263 

agitation,  for  the  mere  preservation  of  external  harmony  ?" 
The  English  feeling  of  absolute  personal  indepen- 
dence, both  in  opinions  and  conduct,  has  so  tjiorougly  dis- 
lodged from  the  minds  and  hearts  of  many  the  Christian 
feeling  of  submission,  for  the  sake  of  love  and  peace — 
much  more  of  submission  or  deference  to  pastoral  author- 
ity, that  the  greatest  imaginable  revolution  must  take 
place  in  the  religious  community,  before  it  can  be  hoped 
that  the  capital  and  simple  principles  of  church  commun- 
ion will  be  generally  recognised  and  bowed  to.  Nothing 
seems  at  present  to  indicate  the  approach  of  ^any  such  fa- 
vourable change  among  us. 

Meanwhile  it  is  natural  to  ask — Why  should  not  the 
Christians  of  the  new  world  avail  themselves  of  the  signal 
advantages  they  enjoy  for  reconsidering  those  faulty  princi- 
ples of  combination  which  their  good  ancestors  carried  with 
them,  when  they  fled  from  strife  and  cruelty  to  the  wilder- 
ness 1  Were  those  times  such  as  ought  to  warrant  the 
belief  that  the  principles  of  church  order  were  well  under- 
stood? Would  a  man  choose  to  take  to  himself  any 
opinion,  unexamiried,  from  the  age  when  church  tyranny 
made  wise  men  mad  ?  But  although  the  ecclesiastical 
doctrines  of  the  Puritans  have  received  in  modern  times, 
some  practical  corrections,  this  system — parent  of  division, 
has  never  yet  been  subjected  to  full  and  calm  examina- 
tion. What  is  the  fact  in  America? — not  that  all  who 
profess  and  love  the  main  articles  of  the  Gospel  are  one 
and  undistinguished,  and  are  exercising  vigorous  and  char- 
itable discipline  against  evil  doer?,  and  declared  heretics  : 
— but  that  they  are  still  segregated — Christians  from  Chris- 
tians, under  odious  designations !  In  England  insuperable 
difficulties,  or  difficulties  too  great  for  our  measure  of  grace 
and  wisdom,  stand  in  the  way  of  any  comprehensive 


264  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

movements  :  or  our  habits  and  notions  are  too  inveterate 
to  be  meddled  with.  We  must  move  on,  and  dwindle  in 
petty  companies.  But  what  apology  can  be  framed  for 
the  perpetuation  of  schism  in  America  ?  none  that  is  not 
trivial. 

We  hear  with  joy  (or  hope)  of  certain  rapid  advances  of 
piety  among  the  transatlantic  churches.  No  misgiving 
will  haunt  our  joy,  or  damp  our  hope,  when  it  shall  be  re- 
ported, that  the  Christians  of  the  United  States  have  so 
received  the  "  unction  from  above,"  as  to  bring  them  to 
concord — visible  as  well  as  cordial. 


XXL 

THE  FEW  NOBLE. 

"  Not  many  Noble." 


THE  most  conspicuous  or  notable  praise  of  Christianity 
is  its  fitness  to  benefit  the  undistinguished  mass  of  man- 
kind. How,  indeed,  could  we  recognise  that  as  a  message 
from  the  Supreme  Beneficence  which  seemed  to  address 
itself  principally  to  those  who  already  hold  the  advantages 
of  intelligence  and  refinement  ?  On  the  contrary,  how 
can  we  fail  to  admit  that  the  Gospel  is  "  from  heaven," 
when  we  see  that  it  turns  away  from  the  illustrious  to  the 
ignoble  ;  from  the  rich  to  the  poor  ;  from  the  wise  to  the 
ignorant ;  in  a  word — from  the  few  to  the  many  ? 

Furthermore,  the  doctrine  of  Christ  challenges  a  pecu- 
liar commendation,  inasmuch  as  it  is  seen  to  confer 
the  substantial  benefits  of  virtue  and  wisdom  upon  the 
vulgar  multitude  of  mankind,  (if  indeed  a  phrase  like  this 
ought  to  find  a  place  at  all  when  THE  GOSPEL  is  men- 
tioned,) without  being  solicitous  to  rid  itself  of  the  humilia- 
tions and  the  contumelies — we  might  almost  say,  the 
contaminations,  it  meets  with,  while  allaying  itself  to  the 
ignorance,  the  rudeness  of  manners,  and  the  many  ungra- 
cious prejudices  that  ordinarily  deform  the  lower  conditions 
of  life.  Christianity  does  not  stand  on  high  ground,  and 
aloof,  and  say  to  the  abject,  the  illiterate,  and  the  impure 
— "  Put  off  your  unseemly  garb  of  misery,  and  learn 
civility  and  courteousness,  before  I  can  approach  your 
company." — But  rather,  with  the  courage  of  true  goodness, 

24 


266  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

it  consents  to  sustain  a  thousand  disgraces  so  that  it  may, 
by  any  means,  bring  salvation  to  the  homes  of  the  wretch- 
ed— Nor  is  this  all ;  for  the  Gospel  makes  men  good  and 
wise  (effectively  so)  without  removing  always  the  unsight- 
ly adjuncts  of  poverty  and  ignorance;  and  after  it  has 
fixed  its  abode  with  the  poor,  continues  to  disregard  the 
mortifying  circumstances  that  so  much  annoy  fastidious 
pride. 

But  is  then  this  doctrine— which  consorts  so  common- 
ly with  the  ignoble,  as  if  by  affinity  of  tastes,  or  incapacity 
to  occupy  a  higher  sphere — in  itself  ignoble,  or  destitute  of 
the  elements  of  grandeur  ?  Who  will  say  that  the  purity 
of  its  ethics  has  no  greatness  or  dignity  ; — or  that  its  dis- 
covery of  eternal  life  has  no  sublimity  ; — or  iis  exhibition 
of  Mercy — mercy  purchased  so  as  it  was,  no  beauty  ? — 
Or  has  the  only  faultless  theology  that  mankind  has 
known,  no  glory  ? — All,  even  its  enemies,  confess,  in  these 
several  particulars,  that  the  religion  of  the  Scriptures  dis- 
plays a  majesty  unrivalled.  The  common  and  familiar 
converse,  therefore,  which  it  holds  with  the  lowest  con- 
ditions, instead  of  being  justly  alledged  as  a  proof  of  a 
kindred  abjectness,  should  be  used  as  an  argument  of  that 
genuine  magnanimity  that  might  be  expected  in  what 
descends  from  heaven,  and  is  scarcely  or  never  found  in 
what  is  born  of  earth. 

And  yet,  while  the  Gospel,  ordinarily,  so  much  shrouds 
its  intrinsic  dignity,  and  embraces  many  humiliations  (as 
its  Author  veiled  his  proper  glory  when  he  dwelt  in  flesh) 
it  does  not  fail,-  in  some  few  instances,  to  expand  itself 
more  at  large,  and  to  develope,  in  full  symmetry,  its  essen- 
tial greatness.  Not  indeed  that  the  doctrine  of  Christ  can 
owe  any  illustration  to  the  native  excellencies  of  human 
nature,  as  if  to  an  independent  power  ;  or  can  derive  ad^ 


THE  FEW  JNOBLE.  267 

vantage  from  a  foreign  source.  But  "every  good  and  per- 
fect gift"  coming  from  above,  and  the  original  faculties  and 
the  endowments  of  the  mind  being  immediately  from  God, 
when  many  gifts  of  various  kinds — original,  adventitious, 
and  heavenly,  meet  in  the  same  subject,  those  of  each 
kind  receive  from  their  combination  with  the  others  a  new 
and  extraordinary  splendour  : — natural  intelligence,  and 
greatness  or  nobility  of  soul,  advantaged  by  culture  and 
secular  embellishments,  shine,  as  with  a  divine  light, 
when  made  luminous  by  the  indwelling  of  the  Spirit ;  and 
this  Spirit  shows  the  more  conspicuously  His  presence  and 
power,  when  the  "  living  temple"  is  of  spacious  construc- 
tion, and  is  adorned  with  costly  materials  and  many  offer- 
ings. Here  and  there  is  found  one  who  admits  the  religion 
of  heaven  in  its  own  manner,  and  imbibes  its  sublimity 
and  beauty  without  detriment,  and  glorifies  God,  the  giver 
of  all,  by  displaying  the  triple  nobility  of  Nature,  Culture, 
and  Faith. 

Might  it  be  said  the  royal  Image  and  Superscription 
which,  by  the  trituration  and  corrosion  it  undergoes  in  the 
common  world,  becomes  continually  less  and  less  distinct, 
is  from  time  to  time  issued  afresh,  and  from  a  new  die  j 
and  all  men,  in  the  sharp  impression  and  inimitable  skill 
of  the  work,  recognise  the  fine  gold  of  the  realm  ;  and  are 
much  emboldened  in  their  reliance  upon  the  vigilance 
and  good  faith  of  the  unseen  Administrator  of  affairs  ? 
Certain  it  is  that  the  style  and  tone  of  piety,  in  every  age 
(or  in  private  circles)  is  in  great  degree  dependent  upon 
the  character  and  impulse  that  are  imparted  to  the  mass  of 
Christians  by  a  few  distinguished  men ; — or  perhaps  by 
one  such.  How  often  have  the  deep  and  secret  conflicts, 
purposes,  conquests,  of  an  illustrious  spirit,  Avhen  divulged 
after  it  has  quitted  earth,  spread  like  a  leaven  of  new  life 


SATURDAY  EVENING. 

through  the  "entire  commonwealth  of  Christianity;  and, 
as  a  means,  or  second  cause,  has  enhanced  (in  various 
degress)  almost  all  the  then  existing  piety  of  the  church ! 
Nor  should  we  be  safe  in  affirming  that  even  the  most 
obscure  or  remote  portions  of  the  general  body  receive  no 
advantage  in  such  instances  ;  for  moral  and  religious  in- 
fluence, like  a  subtle  ether,  attenuates  itself  until  it  is  no 
longer  noticeable  by  human  observation.  Much  less  can 
we  set  bounds  in  lime  to  this  influence  ;  for  piety  is,  if  we 
might  so  speak,  peculiarly  traditive,  and  perpetuates  and 
repeats  itself,  through  the  longest  lines  of  transmission, 
from  age  to  age. 

Not  one  of  the  common  prejudices  that  spring  from  the 
depravity  of  the  heart,  is  more  notably  absurd  than  that 
which  attributes  to  the  individual,  as  ground  of  arrogance 
and  vanity,  his  natural  endowments  of  mind  or  body. 
The  secret  motives  that  dispose  mankind  to  boast  more  of 
those  advantages  which  they  have  had  no  part  in  procur- 
ing for  themselves,  than  of  those  which  have  been  the 
fruits  of  industry,  are  indeed  not  hard  to  be  analyzed,  or 
accounted  for.  Nevertheless,  though  the  error  be  easily 
fallen  into,  it  is  manifestly  preposterous,  for  a  man  to 
assume  as  a  merit  those  distinctions,  which  he  could  no 
more  win  for  himself,  than  confer  upon  another. 

The  very  proper  jealousy  which  Christian  minds  enter- 
tain of  this  error,  which  is  at  once  a  proud  prejudice,  and 
a  folly — leads  them  somewhat  too  far,  when,  in  order  to 
cut  off  effectually  the  occasion  of  vain-glorious  self-love,  they 
almost  refuse  to  give  due  praise  and  credit  to  God's  own 
bestowments.  There  is  a  peril  and  a  difficulty,  it  is  true 
in  this  quarter  ;  nevertheless  it  must  never  be  forgotten, 
much  less  denied,  that  great  mental  capacity,  and  the  pow- 
er of  accumulating  knowledge,  and  nobleness  of  spirit — as 


THE  FEW  NOBLE.  269 

well  as  the  graces  and  embellishments  of  the  exterior  man 
— are  gifts,  and  inestimable  gifts  of  God.  And  if  we  all 
saw  things,  whether  spiritual  or  natural,  with  a  clear  eye 
— an  eye  purged  of  the  films  of  earth,  none  would  be  in 
danger  of  becoming  vain  on  account  of  endowments  or 
powers  the  rudiments  of  which  he  brought  with  him  into 
the  world.  Shall  indeed  a  reasonable  being  challenge  to 
himself,  as  author,  any  distinction  or  advantage  which 
was  elaborated  in  the  womb,  and  is  older  than  his  consci- 
ousness ? — The  future  life  shall  root  out  this  prejudice, 
effectually  and  for  ever  ;  and  then  all  spirits,  with  open  eye 
beholding  the  Fountain  of  good,  shall  glorify  the  Creator  in 
whatsoever  he  bestows  upon  the  creature. 

And  besides  : — the  largest  capacity,  and  the  most  noble . 
dispositions,  are  but  an  approximation  to  the  proper  stan- 
dard and  true  symmetry  of  human  nature ;  and  if  they 
seem  to  reach  perfection  in  one  or  more  points,  never  fail 
to  fall  far  short  of  it  in  others.  It  is  true  that,  if  men  gen- 
erally did  only  conceive  of  the  grandeur  of  their  destiny  as 
immortal,  every  human  being  would  at  once  become  noble 
and  magnanimous  both  in  sentiment  and  conduct.  A  con- 
ception so  large  as  this  in  fact,  enters  few  minds  ;  and  very 
few  attain  that  greatness  of  mind  which,  even  when  carried 
to  the  utmost,  is  still  less  than  reason  would  well  authenti- 
cate. But  it  is  not  the  want  of  that  elevation  of  soul 
which  should  naturally  spring  from  a  consciousness  ef  im- 
mortality, and  of  relationship  to  God,  to  be  accounted  an 
unspeakable  defect  ? — Small  praise  then  surely,  just  to  pos- 
sess that,  which  not  to  possess  is  a  preposterous  fault ! 
This  is  in  fact  the  rule  whereby  great  minds  are  accustom- 
ed to  estimate  their  own  superiority  ;  and  while  employing 
their  power  of  comprehension  and  abstraction  in  conver- 
sing with  ideas  of  absolute  perfection,  they  acquire,  from 
24* 


270  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

the  comparison  thence  arising,  a  modesty  like  that  of  child- 
hood ;  and  are,  notwithstanding  any  comparison  with  other 
men,  always  alive  to  genuine  sense  of  imperfection  and 
ignorance. 

Although  there  are  noble  dispositions  that  do  not  imply 
so  much,  yet  the  true  ideal  of  magnanimity  demands  an 
original  predominance  of  the  two  faculties  that  are  the  pre- 
rogative of  man,  and  which,  by  their  developements,  distin- 
guish one  race  of  men  from  another,  viz:  the  powers  of  Ab- 
straction and  Imagination  ;  and  these,  not  single  or  dispro- 
portioned,  but  duly  balanced  and  blended.  It  is  the  first 
which  disengages  the  mind  from  those  partial  aspects  of 
things  that  fix  the  attention  of  inferior  understandings. 
It  is  the  power  and  disposition  to  discern,  in  every  fact  or 
event,  not  so  much  its  single  import,  as  its  universal  mean- 
ing, and  its  relation  to  general  principles,  which  fills  the 
mind  always  with  the  most  comprehensive  conceptions. 
It  is  this  power  which  leads  on  always  from  the  less  per- 
fect, towards  the  more  perfect ; — from  the  accidental  and 
abjunctive,  to  the  universal ;  or  from  the  exterior  to  the 
interior ;  from  the  specious  to  the  real ;  and  in  so  doing,  not 
merely  gives  the  reasoning  faculty  its  proper  and  necessa- 
ry advantage,  but  dispels  and  puts  out  of  view  a  thousand 
distracting  motives.  Calmness  and  intellectual  courage, 
not  less  than  perspicacity,  are  the  fruit  of  the  power  of  ab- 
straction. 

And  yet  if  alone,  or  if  it  be  the  paramount  faculty  of  the 
mind,  this  power  makes  a  man  nothing  more  than  an 
intellectwalist  of  a  particular  class  ; — a  mathematician, 
physiologist,  or  dialectician.  And  as  such  he  may  be 
altogether  wanting  in  greatness  of  mind.  But  the  philo- 
sophic faculty  becomes,  if  we  might  so  speak,  luminous, 
and  expands  itself  too  much  over  an  incomparably  larger 


THE  FEW  NOBLE.  271 

surface,  and  moves  with  far  more  celerity,  when  it  is 
commingled,  in  a  just  proportion,  with  the  powers  of 
imagination.  It  is  the  sense  of  BEAUTY  (in  the  extended 
meaning  of  the  word)  and  of  sublimity  it  is  the  perception 
of  harmony,  of  richness,  of  magnificence,  and  of  symmetry, 
which  elevates  the  man  of  abstruse  reasoning,  to  a  range 
whence  he  contemplates  all  circles  of  human  knowledgCj 
and  avails  himself  of  the  fruits  of  all :  he  is  then  aborigen 
of  all  spheres  of  thought ;  and  finds  himself  at  home  and 
at  ease  in  every  region.  On  the  other  hand,  destitute  of 
the  power  of  abstraction,  or  the  philosophic  faculty,  the 
man  of  imagination  is  an  artist  only ; — a  caterer  of  tran- 
sient delights ;  or  a  mere  sentimentalist,  whose  entire 
existence  is  as  unimportant  as  the  pleasures  of  a  summer's 
evening.  But  the  two  faculties  in  combination — as  con- 
genial, yet  antagonist  powers,  exert,  one  upon  the  other, 
an  influence  of  enhancement,  as  well  as  of  refinement. — 
That  faculty  of  which  the  object  is  TRUTH,  imparts  to 
that  which  the  object  is  BEAUTY,  severity  of  taste ;  and 
so  renders  every  pleasure  it  approves  at  once  intense  and 
permanent:  while  in  return,  the  latter  conveys  to  the 
former  all  the  elasticity,  and  force,  and  gust  of  enjoyment, 
which  are  characteristic  of  ripe  manhood,  when  compared 
with  withered  age.  It  has  been  the  men  of  one  faculty 
to  whom  mankind  stands  indebted  for  particular  benefits 
in  art  or  science ;  but  it  is  those  alone  who  have  com- 
bined the  two,  whom  all  mankind  regards  with  grateful 
reverence. 

And  yet  these  are  mere  rudiments  of  genuine  magna- 
nimity ;  indispensable  indeed,  but  insufficient  if  alone.  For 
human  nature  is  not  complete  unless  it  be  enamoured  of 
Goodness,  as  well  as  of  Truth  and  Beauty  ;  but  this  can  be 
only  when  its  own  moral  senses  are  sound :  virtue,  there- 


272  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

fore,  is  a  proper  element  of  greatness.  Destitute  of  the 
sense  of  rectitude  and  of  the  emotions  belonging  to  that 
sense,  or  deprived  of  them  by  actual  pravity  of  soul — Mind 
could  hardly  be  deemed  more  than  a  brute  power ; — a 
mere  mechanism  of  cogitation.  Or  if  it  be  in  active  hos- 
tility to  those  sentiments,  it  is  monstrous  ;  and  the  more 
there  should  be  of  intelligence  in  such  a  being,  the  more 
also  of  horrid  deformity.  In  fact,  if  we  take  as  a  whole 
whatever  may  be  known  by  the  human  mind,  one  half, 
and  the  most  important  cannot  be  discerned  without  the 
aid  of  the  moral  faculty.  Love — which  is  virtue  in  act 
— opens  upon  the  mind  the  perception  of  truths  as  real  and 
valid  as  any  of  the  principles  of  mathematical  science. 
Or  Love  may  be  termed  the  mode  in  which  the  highest  and 
most  universal  truths  subsist  in  the  soul ; — how  theu  can 
any  spirit  be  great  from  which  must  be  deducted  that  world 
of  things  that  is  understood  only  by  virtue  and  love  ? — 
Selfishness  is  an  incalculable  error :  malignity,  or  sensuali- 
ty, is  a  thick  darkness.  We  must  then  utterly  deny  the 
praise  of  magnanimity  to  one,  whatever  his  capacity, 
whose  whole  existence  lies  within  the  compass  of  his  per- 
sonal desires;  or  whose  ambition  grasps  nothing  greater 
than  his  single  advantage. 

There  is  a  sort  of  energy,  leading  to  enterprise  and 
achievement,  and  giving  support  also  to  fortitude,  of  which 
it  is  hard  to  say  whether  it  most  belongs  to  the  body  or 
the  mind ; — it  has  perhaps  its  roots  in  the  former,  and 
thence  draws  its  supplies,  and  there  holds  its  grasp  ;  but 
yet  rises  and  spreads,  and  displays  itself  in  the  higher  in- 
tellectual element.  Without  this  force  (whether  it  is  to  be 
accounted  physical  or  mental)  the  soul  may  indeed  con- 
ceive of  that  which  is  great,  and  may  sigh  and  yearn  after 
it ;  but  still  will  be  left  in  the  rear  of  action,  to  contemn 
itself  for  its  continual  failures. 


THE  FEW  NOBLE.  273 

The  adventitious  advantages  of  personal  dignity,  bodily 
strength,  and  equable  health,  must  not  be  spoken  of  in  the 
game  absolute  terms,  as  conditions  of  greatness  of  soul ; 
any  more  than  nobility  of  birth  ;  or  the  habits  that  belong 
to  high  station  and  affluence.  Nevertheless  it  were  an 
equal  error  to  affirm  of  these  advantages,  on  the  one  hand, 
that  they  are  indispensable  to  magnanimous  sentiments  j 
or  on  the  other,  that  they  have  no  affinity  therewith  ;  or 
no  influence  in  enhancing  generous  emotions.  Nature 
and  history  contradict  both  suppositions.  In  many  signal 
instances  that  might  be  named,  MIND,  as  if  purposely  to 
disparage,  or  put  contempt  upon  its  humble  companion — 
MATTER,  has  burst  through  the  restraints  and  humilia- 
tions of  a  feeble,  diseased,  or  distorted  form,  by  force  of  a 
plentitude  of  the  highest  qualities  ;  or  again  as  if  to  make 
mockery  of  exterior  graces,  it  has  withheld  every  virtue 
and  every  gift  from  those  whose  symmetry  and  dignity  of 
person  seemed  to  fit  them  for  thrones.  And  yet  the  un- 
easiness or  painful  sense  of  unfitness  of  which  every  one 
is  conscious  while  such  instances  are  before  the  eye,  is 
itself  a  proof  that  nature  teaches  us  to  look  for  some  cor- 
respondence between  the  interior  and  the  exterior  man  ; 
— or  that  it  is  her  general  rule  to  make  the  visible  a  true 
symbol  of  the  invisible. 

Actual  concernment  with  important  affairs — a  real  con- 
flict with  difficulties,  as  well  as  some  achieved  enterprises 
of  danger  or  labour,  though  not  of  course  to  be  enumera- 
ted among  the  elements  of  magnanimity,  must  be  per- 
emptorily affirmed  as  indispensable  to  its  existence  other- 
wise than  as  a  mere  rudiment,  or  germ.  The  collision 
of  the  mind  with  the  perils  and  toils  of  real  life,  may  fairly 
be  assumed  as  a  test  of  true  greatness  ;  because  our  defini- 
tion of  it  includes  both  power,  and  the  propensity  to  exert 


274  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

it;  for  without  this  ingredient  we  retain  nothing  that 
might  serve  to  distinguish  between  the  idle  con  tern  platist, 
or  the  mere  poet,  or  the  retired  man  of  abstraction,  and 
him  .whom  we  deem  magnanimous.  Energy  that  achieves 
nothing,  is  a  febrile  restlessness ; — not  the  power  of  health. 
Greatness  tfiat  can  establish  its  pretensions  by  no  ostensi- 
ble and  commensurate  performances,  is  hardly  to  be 
known  from  imbecile  ambition. 

Yet  is  there  always  a  counterpoise  in  great  minds  between 
the  desire  of  action — the  vigorous  passion  for  achievement) 
on  the  one  part,  and  that  tendency,  on  the  other,  to  repose 
— that  taste  for  peace— that  calm  residence  of  the  soul 
upon  its  centre,  which  impels  it  (with  an  apparent  incon- 
sistency) now  to  stand  forth,  and  now  to  recede  from  the 
noise  and  confusion  of  the  world.  We  might  find  plenty 
of  great  minds,  if  we  could  but  relinquish,  in  our  defini- 
tion, this  special  characteristic — a  tranquil  taste,  and  the 
capability  of  repose.  In  every  circle  one  may  meet  with 
men  of  prodigious  energy,  and  of  indefatigable  zeal ; — 
but  they  are  such  as  can  exist  only  exteriorly,  or  in  action  : 
— rest,  when  it  must  be  taken,  is  with  them  an  abrupt 
cessation  of  their  intellectual  life  ; — it  is  not  another  and 
a  graceful  mode  of  it.  Will  it  seem  romantic  to  affirm 
that  the  characteristic  serenity  of  minds  truly  great  is  an 
instinct  of  the  soul,  indicating  its  destiny  to  a  future  and 
endless  life  ? — for  even  though  that  life  were  believed  to 
consist  of  a  perpetuity  of  action  ;  nevertheless  the  antici- 
pation of  it,  fraught  as  it  is  with  the  notion  of  infinity, 
and  of  absolute  perfection,  must  always  be  attended  with 
the  idea  of  peace  and  stillness. 

If  it  yet  seems  as  if  some  one  infallible  characteristic  of 
genuine  magnanimity  were  wanting,  we  should  at  once 
name  unalterable  modesty,  as  that  mark.  That  it  is  so 


THE  FEW  NOBLE.  275 

might  be  argued  not  merely  from  the  evidence  of  facts, 
establishing  the  point  that  great  men  have  always  shone 
with  this  grace,  as  assume  it  a  priori,  inasmuch  as  eleva- 
tion and  grandeur  of  soul  consists  in,  or  is  derived  form,  an 
habitual  contemplation  of  universal  principles.  This 
habit  of  the  mind  contains  a  tacit  comparison  which  is  of 
the  very  essence  of  humility.  The  spirit  that  has  no 
modesty,  manifestly  has  no  sense  of  abstract  excellence  : 
and  therefore  can  have  no  greatness ;  or,  at  least,  is  not 
holding  converse  with  things  greater  than  itself ; — hence 
it  grasps  nothing  that  might  aid  it  [to  spring  up,  or  rise 
above  its  actual  level. 

The  modesty  of  great  minds,  like  their  tendency  to  rest, 
generates  an  apparent  inconsistency  at  which  vulgar  ob- 
servers are  amazed  : — it  is  a  dissonance,  full  of  sweetness 
and  power ;  but  pleasing  to  well-taught  ears.  For  just  as 
there  is  (as  we  have  already  said)  an  alternation  between 
the  love  of  repose  and  the  desire  of  action  ;  so  is  there 
also  in  noble  spirits  a  counterpoise  between  the  conscious- 
ness of  superior  power  and  native  high  quality,  and  this 
characteristic  humility  or  meekness.  Such  are  the 
changes  of  a  spring  day,  when  the  sun,  returning  to  our 
hemisphere  and  about  to  put  forth  anew  the  generative 
fervour  of  summer,  is  seen  contending  with  the  heavy  ex- 
halations of  earth.  For  awhile  these  vapours  gather  over 
the  heavens  and  darken  the  landscape  ;  but  at  length  they 
divide,  and  even  while  tepid  showers  are  falling,  the  source 
of  light  is  revealed  in  all  his  effulgence : — and  yet  only  to 
be  soon  again  veiled  in  the  mists  his  own  rays  have  drawn 
into  the  sky. 

False  or  affected  greatness,  which  consists  in  the  tumid 
expansion  of  a  meagre  substance,  may  assume  all  appear- 
ances of  the  true  sooner  than  this  of  modesty ;  which  either 


276  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

it  will  not  attempt,  or  attempting,  will  utterly  fail  to  reach. 
Or  while  acting  the  part  of  modesty,  will  so  exhibit  its  rest- 
lessness and  impatience,  as  to  forfeit  the  praise  of  serenity. 
Thus  the  two  inseparable  characteristics  of  genuine  mag- 
nanimity are  denied  to  all  pretenders. 

In  nothing  are  great  and  inferior  minds  more  certainly 
distinguished,  than  in  that  peculiar  composite  sentiment 
with  which  the  former  habitually  contemplate  mankind  at 
large:  We  say  composite  sentiments  ;  because  it  brings 
together,  with  singular  harmony,  all  the  separate  ingredi- 
ents of  magnanimity  which  we  have  just  enumerated.  In 
the  analogous  feeling  of  pretenders  to  greatness,  some  one 
or  more  of  these  ingredients  is  wanting.  The  man  of 
enormous  ambition,  splended  as  his  qualities  may  seem, 
can  make  out  no  valid  claim  to  the  affection  of  his  fellow- 
men,  even  if  he  may  compel  their  admiration  ;  for  he  looks 
upon  them  simply  as  the  means  or  materials  by  which  to 
effect,  or  upon  which  to  build  the  spacious  edifice  of  his 
pride.  Or  if  beneficence  takes  its  turn  in  his  emotions, 
it  is  taught  to  give  way  instantly  when  it  might  embar- 
rass the  dominant  passion.  The  vague  theorist  too  whose 
schemes  are  as  large  as  continents,  and  who,  one  would 
say,  has  built  his  nests  high  as  the  clouds,  so  that  he 
looks  down  upon  empires  as  a  man  does  upon  a  colony  of 
ants  ; — he  is  great  only  in  his  closet :  he  legislates  for 
nations  not  a  few  ; — schools  senates  ; — rebukes  kings  ; — 
revises  all  that  is  faulty  in  the  institutions  of  all  lands  ; — 
throws  the  blame  of  every  human  woe  upon  statues.  Yes, 
his  pen  is  quite  a  paternal  sceptre,  wielded  for  the  benefit 
of  the  species  !  Alas,  all  this  sovereign  philanthrophy  is 
bottled  in  his  inkhorn !  look  for  it  elsewhere  ;  in  his  con- 
duct or  his  self  denials : — you  find  it  not.  This  huge 
goodwill  to  men  is  nothing  better  than  the  mode  of  unmeas- 


THE  FEW  NOBLE.  277 

urable  vanity  ;  and  if  you  want  a  proof  that  it  is  so,  see 
how  cunningly  the  sage  avails  himself  of  the  slender  know 
ledge  of  the  men  of  his  country  or  age,  so  as  to  make  him- 
self appear  the  author  and  inventor  of  that  which  he  has 
just  known  how  to  steal  from  foreign  quarters. 

The  philanthropy  that  is  genuine  and  great  yearns 
to  act,  and  must  spend  itself  in  some  effort,  effectual  or 
not,  to  diffuse  benefits.  The  habit  of  abstraction,  which 
is  the  primary  rudiment  of  his  character,  informed  by  the 
bright  conceptions,  and  animated  by  the  emotions  which 
his  imagination  furnishes,  leads  him  to  meditate,  as  his 
favourite  theme,  upon  the  welfare  of  communities ;  or  of  his 
species  at  large.  .  And  he  is  enough  of  the  philosopher  to 
look  with  indulgence  upon  the  errors  and  faults  of  man  ; 
but  not  so  a  philosopher  as  to  make  these  errors  and  faults 
the  subject  of  caustic  merriment.  He  is  poet  enough  to 
feel  a  kindling  sympathy  with  whatever  is  beautiful  or 
gracious  in  the  social  system  ;  but  not  so  a  poet  as  to  turn 
away  his  eye  from  the  unpleasing  realities  of  human  de- 
gradation. He  is  the  man  of  action,  energy,  courage,  for- 
titude ;  but  his  velocity  is  not  that  of  a  machine,  which,  is 
serviceable  or  destructive  blindly,  for  he  has  long  pondered 
whatever  he  attempts,  and  his  motive  is  always  so  sound 
and  so  admirable,  that  even  his  failures  or  defeats  are 
brighter  than  other  men's  successes  :  and  when  thwarted 
in  his  endeavours,  men  see  in  his  serenity  that  it  was 
good-will  to  his  species,  not  ambition,  that  moved  the 
attempt. 

Nothing  can  be  less  like  arrogance  or  conceit  than  the 
feeling  with  which  a  great  mind  inwardly  confesses  its 
unquestioned  superiority.  Such  is  that  respect  for 
humanity  which  the  man  of  magnanimous  sentiments 
entertains,  that  it  is  with  sincere  pain  he  recognises  at  any 

25 


278  SATURDAY   EVENING. 

time  in  other  men  those  deficiencies,  or  that  meanness,  or 
baseness,  or  frivolity,  whence  he  might  draw  a  comparison 
in  his  own  favour.  As  often  as  any  such  comparison  ob- 
trudes^  itself,  gratulation  gives  way  to  shame,  or  compas- 
sion for  others.  Jt%  is  to  him  a  heavy  grievance  that  men 
should  be  blinded  by  prejudice,  perverted  by  passion,  cor- 
rupted by  interest ; — that  they  should  be  ignorant ; — infirm 
in  judgment ; — sordid  in  conduct.  The  levity  of  mankind, 
and  their  corruption,  alike  distress  him,  for  they  contro- 
vert that  feeling  he  would  fain  always  cherish,  of  compla- 
cency towards  all  things,  and  of  esteem  for  all.  Tell  him 
to  think  with  pleasure  of  his  own  expansion  of  mind  and 
nobility  of  temper : — this  is  but  in  another  manner  to 
enumerate  the  dishonours  of  his  fellow-men  ! 

Conceptions  and  emotions  of  this  order  are  justly  deem- 
ed romantic  when  not  found  in  combination  with  energy 
and  consistency  of  conduct : — that  is  to  say,  when  they 
are  mere  conceptions,  and  mere  emotions.  But  the  man 
who  thinks  them  so,  however  recommended  by  the  active 
virtues ; — the  man  who  secretly  contemns  the  humility 
and  humanity  of  great  minds  as  if  it  were  a  weakness, 
may  be  sure  that  there  is  a  region  of  thought  of  which  he 
has  no  more  knowledge  than  the  mole  lias  of  the  vastness 
and  splendour  of  the  upper  skies,  where  the  eagle  soars. 


XXII. 
RUDIMENT  OF  CHRISTIAN  MAGNANIMITY. 

"Let  him  that  Glorteth,  Glory  in  the  Lord." 


AND  yet  the  greatness  of  man,  at  the  best,  is  but  great- 
ness fallen  and  restored :  and  the  utmost  he  can  attain 
to  in  the  present  state  is  so  much  of  dignity  as  may  be- 
seem one  who,  rightfully  challenging  the  honours  of  high 
birth  and  illustrious  destiny,  is  rescued  from  a  degradation 
he  has  sustained,  and  is* replaced  in  a  condition  of  hope 
and  advancement.  In  such  a  case,  every  sentiment 
should  have  respect  to  the  history  and  to  the  true  circum- 
stances of  the  person.  Genuine  magnanimity  will  never 
prompt  a  man  to  hush  up  his  past  misfortunes,  or  dis- 
graces ;  much  less  to  deny  the  obligation  he  is  under  to 
whoever  has  saved  him  from  penury,  obloquy,  or  danger. 
On  the  contrary,  true  generosity  m  st  shows  itself  in  the 
readiness  with  which  such  confessions  are  made,  and  the 
debt  of  gratitude  acknowledged.  It  is  the  part  only  of  the 
basest  spirits  to  affect  oblivion  of  humiliating  facts  which 
all  the  world  is  acquainted  with. 

It  must  then  be  deemed  a  great  disparagement  when 
the  subject  of  any  signal  misfortune — or  benefit,  is  himself 
unconscious  of  the  fact ;  or  very  imperfectly  sensible  of  it ; 
— and  such  ignorance  is  always  to  be  deplored  in  propor- 
tion to  the  native  generosity  or  nobleness  of  the  individual 
in  question.  When  vulgar  souls  are  unapprised  of  signal 
services  done  them,  we  thing  the  less  of  it,  inasmuch  as, 
if  known,  there  would  probably  be  little  acknowledgment 


280  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

of  the  favour  ; — nay,  perhaps,  some  offensive  expression 
of  ingratitude.  But  we  long  to  inform  the  magnanimous 
of  their  obligations,  if  it  were  only  that  the  most  generous 
emotions  of  which  human  nature  is  susceptible,  might  be 
set  in  flow. 

Ignorance  of  the  cause  and  extent  of  his  misery  is  the 
aggravation,  universally,  of  the  mischief  that  has  happened 
to  man  ;  and,  contrary  to  what  might  have  been  imagined, 
this  ignorance  attaches  to  the  most  elevated  spirits,  not  less 
than  to  the  most  rude.  Indeed  those  very  qualities  and 
powers  of  mind  which  might  lead  such  to  feel  and  deplore 
the  deterioration  of  their  moral  state,  and  to  accept  frankly 
and  joyfully  the  succour  offered  from  above,  seem  rather 
to  form  a  blind,  intercepting  the  prospect  of  things  greater 
and  more  excellent,  that  might  be  attained. 

If  facts  did  not  prove  the  contrary,  how  confidently 
should  we  expect  that  all  vigorous  and  generous  minds 
would,  with  an  instantaneous  conviction,  or  as  if  by  the 
instinct  of  a  native  sympathy,  embrace  the  great  principles 
of  religion  ! — how  natural  that  such  should  rush  toward 
the  hope  of  immortal  happiness ;  should  be  foremost  to 
accept  the  proffered  friendship  of  the  Most  High  ;  should 
yearn  to  get  released  from  the  defilements  of  sin ;  and 
especially  that,  from  the  impulse  of  a  kindred  generosity, 
and  with  the  ingenuousness  that  distinguishes  noble  tem- 
pers, they  should  admire  and  receive  the  grace — divinely 
free — that  has  been  obtained  for  mankind  by  the  vicarious 
work  of  the  Great  Deliverer  !  All  this  would  naturally 
happen  if  the  moral  mischief  that  infests  us  were  less  than 
it  is  ;  or  did  not  include  a  derangement  or  obscuration  of 
every  faculty,  and  a  perversion  of  every  sentiment. 

This  obscuration,  both  of  the  intellectual  and  moral 
powers— common  to  all  men,  and  not  less  gross  in  the 


RUDIMENT  OF  CHRISTIAN  MAGNANIMITY.         281 

instance  of  highly-gifted  individuals  than  in  others  ;  but 
often  more  so,  is  to  be  dispelled  in  one  manner  only  : — 
that  is  to  say,  when  Sovereign  Power  from  on  high  re- 
stores the  soul  to  soundness  of  health,  and  brings  it  back 
to  the  place  and  dignity  whence  it  has  declined.  That 
this  restoration  is  properly  attributable  to  a  Divine  Agency, 
is  confessed  by  every  one  who  is  the  subject  of  it:  nor  is 
the  confession  made  merely  in  deference  to  the  inspired 
testimony  ;  but  springs  from  the  impulse  of  consciousness, 
which  dares  not — cannot  attribute  so  great  and  happy  a 
change  to  any  inferior  cause. 

Whatever  therefore  may,  in  any  case,  be  the  measure 
of  intelligence,  how  noble  soever  the  pre-existing  disposi- 
tions, how  entire  soever  the  ingenuousness  and  simplicity 
of  the  mind,  when  a  cordial  submission  to  the  grace  of 
the  Gospel  is  spoken  of,  there  is  included,  without  excep- 
tion or  distinction,  the  presence  and  agency  of  the  Divine 
Spirit.  The  explicit  affirmations  of  Scripture  demand  as 
much  ; — and  the  concurrence  of  all,  who  by  experience 
are  qualified  to  speak  on  the  subject,  corroborates  the  same 
truth. 

But  when  once  this  renovation  is  effected,  and  when  the 
many  prejudices,  and  the  crude  suppositions  which  the 
pride  of  the  heart,  or  its  vicious  propensities,  have  genera- 
ted, are  dispersed,  the  gifts  of  nature,  whether  intellectual 
or  moral,  will  make  themselves  apparent.  And  first  of 
all — superior  mental  power  shows  itself  in  the  preliminary 
of  a  full  conviction  of  the  truth  of  Christianity.  Alterna- 
tions of  doubt  and  confidence,  where  evidence  is  complete, 
are  characteristic  of  a  feeble  understanding  ;  and  it  belongs 
too  to  a  confused  one,  to  rest,  from  year  to  year,  in  a  sort 
of  equable  haze  of  semi-persuasion ;  as  it  were  on  the 
very  borders  of  light,  when  certainty  is  attainable.  Mul- 

25* 


282  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

titudes  of  Chrirtians,  it  may  be  feared,  are  Christians  of 
this  degree  ; — occupants  of  the  penumbra  of  faith  ;  and 
believers  or  sceptics,  according  to  the  direction  in  which 
they  happen  at  the  moment  to  be  looking — towards  the 
region  of  day  or  of  night.  A  vigorous  rnind  is  impa- 
tient of  any  such  states  of  incertitude : — it  acquiesces  in- 
deed calmly  in  the  necessity  of  the  case,  when  evidence 
is  imperfect  or  inconclusive  ;  and  will  then  te  as  jealous  of 
dogmatism,  as  otherwise  it  would  of  indecision.  But  how 
should  it  restrain  its  active  force,  or  how  repress  that  irres- 
istible desire — the  desire  of  knowledge,  when  ample 
materials  are  before  it ;  when  every  species  of  proof  in 
redundance  offers  itself  to  examination  ; — when  circuitous 
and  coincident  testimony  is  seen  to  run  on  in  the  same 
general  direction  with  that  which  is  explicit ;  so  that  to 
remain  in  ignorance,  or  to  be  the  victim  of  delusion  is  a 
culpable  weakness,  preposterous  as  it  is  unhappy  1 

On  a  subject  like  that  of  the  Christian  evidences,  a  man 
of  powerful  and  comprehensive  mind,  after  he  has  once 
made  himself  master  of  the  argument,  feels  on  all  occa- 
sions that  the  approach  of  doubt  or  hesitation  is  nothing 
but  a  symptom  of  some  momentary  debility  or  torpor  of 
the  reasoning  faculty  ;  and  in  alarm,  not  for  the  question, 
but  for  the  integrity  of  his  own  powers,  he  rouses  a 
manly  strength,  and  shakes  off  the  drowsy  impotency  that 
had  crept  upon  him.  That  this  sort  of  vigorous  faith  does 
not  more  often  show  itself  among  Christians,  is  because 
the  two  elements  whence  it  should  spring  are  but  rarely 
united :  for  on  the  one  hand,  those  whose  fervent  piety  gives 
them  an  interior  or  experimental  conviction  of  the  truth  of 
the  Scriptures,  are  not  very  often,  in  any  good  degree, 
familiar  with  the  documentary  argument ;  or  perhaps 
have  not  the  intellectual  power  requsite  for  appreciating 


RUDIMENT  OP  CHRISTIAN  MAGNANIMITY.         283 

its  force.  And  on  the  other  hand,  the  few  who  do  possess 
these  advantages,  too  often  labour  under  a  coldness  of 
heart,  or  a  secularity  of  character,  which  makes  Christian- 
ity and  its  principal  doctrines  distasteful,  or  unintelligible  ; 
so  that  their  rational  conviction,  how  strong  soever  it  may 
be,  never  rests  within  them  at  ease ;  but  is  always  in  con- 
flict with  this  or  that  prejudice,  or  lurking  suspicion.  Or 
it  may  be,  that  the  irksome  familiarity  of  professional 
engagements  in  religion  has  checked  every  spirtual  sense ; 
or  that  an  enfeebling  of  the  judgment,  produced  by  the  ac- 
cumulation of  ponderous  erudition,  actually  disables  the 
mind  from  grasping  or  retaining  its  hold  of  great  and 
serious  truths. 

And  is  there  not  room  to  say,  that  what  may  be  termed 
secular  vigour  of  mind — vigour  trained  and  exercised 
either  on  the  theatre  of  public  life,  or  within  the  precincts 
of  natural  science,  when  animated  by  genuine  piety,  pro- 
duces an  unblenching  faith  which  those  might  envy 
whose  duties  in  religion  at  once  demand  the  most  un- 
shaken presuasion,  and  tend  to  impair  it  ? 

The  same  intellectual  energy,  governed  and  enlivened 
by  the  fervour  and  ingenuousness  of  a  cordial  faith,  carries 
the  mind  forward  in  full  course,  clear  of  all  frivolous  soph- 
isms, to  the  great  facts,  whether  more  or  less  mysterious, 
that  are  distinctly  affirmed  or  implied  in  the  Scriptures. 
Convinced  that  these  books  bear  with  them  the  authority 
that  must  attach  to  a  miraculous  communication  of  know- 
ledge from  God  to  man,  a  sound,  philosophic,  and  upright 
mind  dares  not  for  a  moment  hesitate  to  regard  them  as 
altogether  trustworthy  in  their  mode  and  style  of  convey- 
ing the  principles  they  were  actually  intended  to  impart. 
There  is  an  alert  sagacity — there  is  a  fine  and  mobile 
penetration,  which  we  naturally  call  into  exercise  when 


284  SATURDAY  EVENING, 

we  have  to  do  (as  we  suppose)  with  any  who  are  endeav- 
ouring either  to  perplex  or  to  deceive  us.  But  to  open  the 
Bible  in  this  spirit — to  take  the  Book  as  from  the  hand  of 
God,  and  then  to  look  at  it  aloof,  and  with  caution,  as  if 
throughout  it  were  illusory  and  enigmatical,  is  the  worst 
of  all  impieties,  as  well  as  the  greatest  possible  inconsis- 
tency. 

The  Creator,  having  already  spoken  intelligibly  to  man 
by  the  display  of  His  wisdom  and  power  in  the  visible 
world,  which  sets  forth  conspicuously  the  first  truths  of 
theology,  would  seem  Himself  to  inculpate  or  disparage 
that  existing  mode  of  instruction  if,  when  He  condescends 
to  teach  us  mouth  to  mouth,  He  were  to  tell  us  of  nothing 
that  had  not  already  been  imparted  in  the  elder  method. 
The  Scriptures,  because  attended  with  an  operose  economy 
of  supernatural  attestations,  are  to  be  presumed  to  contain 
high  matters,  and  such,  that  no  less  an  apparatus  could 
properly  have  conveyed  them.  Nor  will  an  enlarged  and 
generous  spirit,  already  awakened  to  discern  the  glory  of 
Him — the  Incomprehensible  Being,  with  whom  we  have 
to  do,  deem  those  things  to  be  unworthy  of  Heaven  which 
the  inspired  writers,  in  the  calm  simplicity  of  truth,  open 
to  our  faith  and  gratitude. 

In  like  manner  as  it  may  readily  be  conceived  that^ 
when  the  human  spirit  enters  upon  the  untrodden  fields 
of  a  higher  world,  though  the  economy  of  that  sphere,  and 
the  stupendous  objects  or  movements  belonging  to  it,  are 
all  as  amazing  as  they  are  new ;  nevertheless,  not  one  of 
those  objects — not  one  of  those  novel  acts,  fails  to  find 
some  principle  of  sympathy  or  alliance  in  the  native  ideas 
or  emotions  of  the  new-born  child  of  immortality  ;  and  this 
for  the  plain  reason,  that  an  absolute  harmony  or  unity  of 
principle  pervades,  as  well  the  intellectual,  as  the  material 


RUDIMENT  OP  CHRISTIAN  MAGNANIMITY.        285 

Universe : — so>  for  the  same  reason,  whatever  elements) 
or  whatever  transactions  of  that  upper  world  are  now 
brought  within  out  knowledge  by  the  Scriptures,  though 
invested,  as  we  might  well  anticipate,  with  the  majesty 
and  awful  greatness  of  infinity,  are  yet  found  to  have  a 
thorough  analogy  with  our  human  nature  ;  and  meet,  in 
its  original  principles,  with  corresponding  rules  of  thinking, 
or  modes  of  feeling ;  and  (if  the  phrase  might  be  permit- 
ted) instantly  make  themselves  at  home  in  our  bosoms. 

Whoever  has  freely  and  gratefully  admitted  into  his 
heart  the  first  truth  of  Christianity — the  atonement  for  sin, 
accomplished  by  the  Son  of  God,  will  grant  that  he  finds 
in  it  nothing  that  does  not  recommend  itself  to  his  reason  ; 
when  reason  is  the  most  serene,  and  the  most  happily  in 
correspondence  with  pure  and  ingenuous  emotions.  If 
ever  he  doubts  the  reality  of  this  doctrine,  or  loses  his  per- 
ception of  its  excellence,  it  is  precisely  when  the  vivacity 
of  every  better  sentiment  has  been  hurt  by  the  prevalence 
of  earthly  passions,  or  the  influence  of  secular  engage- 
ments. 

The  great  principle  of  the  vicarious  sufferings  of  Christ, 
and  the  correlative  truth  of  his  proper  divinity,  may  either 
be  thus  confessed  as  congruous  with  our  most  ennobling 
emotions ;  or  may  be  acquiesced  in,  as  the  consequence  of 
an  intimate  perception  of  the  unalterable  rectitude  of  the 
Divine  nature ;  and  then  this  perception,  though  it  deepens 
the  emotions  of  contrition  and  humiliation,  is  felt,  in  the 
very  same  degree,  to  impart  to  it  a  qualification,  and  a 
taste,  fitting  it  to  rise  into  a  sphere  of  existence  ineffably 
higher  than  heretofore  it  had  at  all  imagined  ;  much  less 
attained  to.  A  true  knowledge  of  God,  as  unchangeably 
just,  and  absolutely  holy,  while,  in  a  sense,  it  oppresses  the 
spirit,  exalts  it  far  more,  But  it  can  not  any  such  in- 


286  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

fluence  until  the  means  are  discerned  by  which  Justice 
and  mercy  may  be  reconciled.  The  very  same  spiritual 
perceptions  that  cast  the  soul  into  the  depth  of  contrition, 
awaken  it  also  to  a  consciousness  of  celestial  excellence 
and  glory.  The  agonies  of  penitence  are  nothing  else 
than  a  bursting  forth  in  the  heart  of  those  higher  princi- 
ples (originally  planted  there,  but  long  subverted)  which, 
when  fully  expanded,  shall  place  man  in  communion  with 
the  most  exalted  natures ;  and  not  only  so,  but  open  to 
him  free  access  to  the  Source  of  all  Good.  Destitute  of 
these  genuine  elements  of  greatness,  the  magnanimity  of 
man  is  false,  or  fustrate,  or  spends  and  exhales  in  momen- 
tary efforts,  and  on  unworthy  occasions. 

And  yet  how  shall  any  such  true  and  intimate  percep- 
tion of  the  Divine  purity  and  inflexible  rectitude,  bringing 
with  it,  as  it  must,  a  proportionate  sense  of  personal  guilt, 
peril,  and  degradation,  be  at  all  entertained  by  the  human 
mind,  much  less  be  cherished,  until  the  hope  of  pardon, 
and  of  friendship  with  God,  has  been  seen  to  rest  upon 
the  most  solid  ground  1  That  this  harmony  of  spiritual 
principles  exists  nowhere  but  in  the  doctrine  of  the  atone- 
ment, might  be  sufficiently  argued  from  the  fact,  that  the 
rejection  of  the  doctrine  is  always  coincident  with  indis- 
tinct and  derogatory  notions  of  the  moral  attributes  of  the 
Deity.  Nothing  can  sever  these  rudiments  of  the  religi- 
ous life — a  consistent  and  elevated  conception  of  the  Di- 
vine character — genuine  compunction  on  account  of  guilt 
and  depravity.;  and  (if  hope  entertained  at  all)  a  grateful 
acquiescence  in  the  doctrine  of  substitution. 

The  affirmation  of  this  necessary  connexion  may  be 
deemed  gratuitous,  and  nugatory  ;  and  will  so  be  deemed 
by  those  who  themselves  are  destitute  of  the  primary  ele- 
ment of  piety.  Nevertheless  it  would  not  be  difficult  to 


RUDIMENT  OF  CHRISTIAN  MAGNANIMITY.         287 

embarrass  the  oppugner  (unless  he  took  the  ground  of 
Atheism)  in  a  thousand  contradictions ; — much  in  the 
same  manner  that  a  man  who  had  been  blind  from  his 
birth  might,  especially  if  conversant  with  science,  have  it 
demonstrated  to  him,  that  there  is  actually  a  faculy  by 
means  of  which  knowledge  is  gained  of  remote  objects ; 
though  for  him  in  any  degree  to  conceive  of  such  a  faculty 
would  be  utterly  impossible.  In  such  a  case  the  blind 
man  would  be  hedged  in  between  abstract  demonstration, 
and  the  involuntary  scepticism  that  belongs  to  ignorance. 

The  capital  truth  of  the  propitiatory  sacrifice  offered  for 
mankind  by  the  Son  of  God,  gives  scope  to  the  greatest 
intellectual  power,  by  a  peculiarity  that  distinguishes  the 
higher  themes  of  religious  meditation.  In  the  several 
departments  of  secular  philosophy,  the  objects  of  abstract 
thought  lie  compactly  within  the  range  of  the  faculty  they 
are  to  exercise  ;  and  this  faculty,  so  far  from  being  aided 
in  its  efforts  by  the  sensitive  principles  of  the  soul,  demands 
that  these  should  be  quiescent  while  it  is  in  action.  Hence 
arises  that  common  partition  of  minds  into  the  two  classes 
of  the  ratiocinative,  and  the  sensitive ;  nor  is  any  thing 
more  rare  than  a  combination  of  the  two,  in  any  very 
eminent  degree. 

But  the  peculiarity  of  the  primary  truth  of  the  Chris- 
tian system  is  this — That  though  it  be  matter  of  abstrac- 
tion, the  materials  of  cogitation  wait  to  be  presented  to 
the  reasoning  powers  by  the  moral  sense  ;  and  this  sense 
must  first  be  spiritually  quickened  before  it  can  perform 
its  office.  It  is  only  when  an  intimate  perception  is  had 
of  the  Divine  rectitude  and  purity  ;  and  only  in  proportion 
to  the  vivacity  of  such  perceptions,  that  the  relations  of 
justice  and  goodness  can  be  discerned,  or  be  subjected  to 
reason.  Apart  from  this  spirtual  discernment,  the  mental 


SATURDAY  EVENING. 

process,  although  it  may  be  carried  on  with  a  semblance 
of  logical  consistency,  has  lost  its  substance  (just  as  real 
quantities  are  forgotten  in  the  working  of  algebraic  signs) 
and  the  current  of  ideas  quickly  subsides  into  the  lower 
channel  of  mere  speculation.  Nothing  less  than  the 
highest  sensibility  of  the  soul — its  plentitude  of  feeling,  its 
participation  of  that  Divine  nature  which  is  Love,  can 
give  it  fully  the  power  to  draw  conclusions,  on  this  high 
theme,  from  premises,  or  to  measure  the  true  bearing  of  its 
abstract  notions. 

There  are  certain  trains  of  reasoning  on  abstruse  mat- 
ters, wherein  either  the  subject  is  so  ethereal,  or  the  con- 
nexion of  principles  so  evanscent,  or  so  recondite,  that  they 
are  not  at  all  to  be  pursued  except  when  the  intellectual 
powers  are  in  a  state  of  the  very  highest  vigour.  Hence 
naturally,  it  happens,  that  the  conclusions  which  have 
been  reached  or  assented  to  in  the  hour  of  mental  strength 
and  perspicacity,  come  to  be  questioned,  or  very  dimly  ap- 
prehended, in  the  season  of  languor  that  succeeds  : — there 
is  a  vacillation — or  an  alternation  of  knowledge  and  doubt ; 
just  because  the  mind  cannot  permanently  keep  its  posi- 
tion on  the  height  which  sometimes  it  attains.  But  in 
these  cases  the  rise  and  fall  of  conviction  takes  place  exclu- 
sively within  the  circle  of  the  reasoning  powers. 

The  mental  variation,  or  parallax,  of  which  now  we 
are  speaking,  is  quite  of  a  different  sort.  For  it  is  not 
that  the  objects  in  question  are  in  themselves  subtile,  or 
unsubstantial,  or  that  the  relations  that  connect  them  are 
slender  or  flickering  :  yet  they  are  not  to  be  seen  by  the 
native  light  of  the  human  mind.  The  soul  must,  in  this 
case,  be  illuminated  from  above  before  reason  can  do  its 
work.  It  is  as  when  the  traveller  who  has  reached  an  al- 
pine height,  at  the  breaking  of  day,  looks  around  him 


RUDIMENT  OF  CHRISTIAN  MAGNANIMITY.        289 

upon  a  far  extended  sea  of  shapeless  mists.  Shall  he  be- 
lieve that  nothing  is  on  the  right  hand  and  on  the  left  but 
vague  obscurity  and  unimportant  vapours  ? — No  ;  for  the 
sun  soon  scatters  these  exhalations  ;  and  the  stupendous 
masses  of  the  mountains  stand  out  in  all  their  proper 
strength  of  colouring,  and  their  breadth  and  solidity  of  form! 
Now  nothing  is  indistinct -or  questionable;  and  although, 
evert 'while  he 'is  gazing,  the  clouds  should  reassemble 
upon  the  bosom  of  the  hills,  and  leave  him,  as  if  insulated, 
on  his  pinnacle  of  observation,  he  would  not,  any  the  more, 
assent  to  one  who  should  tell  him  that  what  lately  he  had 
contemplated  was  an  airy  phantasm. 

Uncultured  and  ingenuous  minds  happily  escape  cer- 
tain perplexities  which,  groundless  as  they  are,  often  ob- 
struct the  course  of  excursive,  and  even  of  powerful  under- 
standings ;  nor  is  there  any  way  of  escape  from  such  em- 
barrassments except  that  which  a  radiance  from  heaven 
makes  known.  If,  for  example,  the  mind  falters  at  the 
ineffable  doctrine  of  the  divine  dignity  of  Him  who  was 
"  Son  of  man"  and  "  Son  of  God  ;"  faith  is  reassured 
when  a  perception  is  obtained  of  the  unalterable  glory  of 
the  moral  perfections  of  God :  and  while  that  perception 
enkindles  penitence  and  fear,  it  is  most  distinctly  felt  that, 
if  the  fallen  are  indeed  to  be  rescued  and  the  guilty  absolv- 
ed, nothing  of  less  magnitude  than  the  Christian  economy 
can  reconcile  the  demands  of  rectitude  with  the  course  of 
mercy.  Not  one  of  the  correlative  notions  on  which  the 
Gospel  turns  can  possibly  be  surrendered,  or  at  all  abated. 
To  give  up  the  first  of  them,  is  nothing  less  than  for  the 
soul  to  dismiss  its  high  conception  of  purity  and  bliss  ; — 
it  is  for  itself  to  fall  back  into  that  abyss  of  darkness  and 
dismay  whence  lately  it  emerged.  Most  distinctly  is  it  dis- 
cerned that  the  only  tenable  hope  of  progressive  happiness, 

26 


290  SATURDAY"  EVENING.' 

and  the  only  worthy  idea  of  the  future  expansion  and  pet' 
fection  of  the  powers  of  human  nature,  coincide  precisely 
with  an  enlargement  of  this  same  spiritual  knowledge  of 
the  Divine  purity,  and  with  an  increasing  intensity  of 
the  emotions  that  thence  arise.  Now  without  presuming 
to  ask — whether  the  salvation  of  man  might  in  any  other 
way  than  by  the  propitiatory  work  of  Christ  have  been 
reconciled  with  the  Divine  attributes  ;  it  is  enough  that  the 
stupendous  scheme  of  mercy  opened  in  the  Gospel — a 
scheme  which  human  minds  would  never  have  devised, 
manifestly  brings  every  contrariety  to  unison,  and  may  cor- 
dially be  embraced,  as  the  true  harmony  of  heaven. 

Not  indeed  as  if  the  field  of  divine  science  could  so  be 
traversed  and  surveyed  by  the  human  faculties,  or  as  if 
the  actual  procedures  of  the  Supreme  Intelligence  could  so 
be  made  matter  of  antecedent  calculation,  as  that  men 
might  be  qualified  to  say — "  Thus,  and  thus  only,  could 
Infinite  Wisdom  attain  its  purposes." — All  argumentation 
that  rests  on  any  such  grounds  merits  reprobation.  But 
as  natural  philosophy  presents  many  arrangements  in  the 
material  system  of  which  the  use  and  excellence  may  be 
distinctly  seen  although,  a  priori  no  such  combinations 
would  ever  have  been  thought  of  as  possible  ;  or  have 
been  deemed  fit,  even  if 'possible;  so,  'in  divine  science 
may  we  very  intelligently  consent  to  the  wisdom  of  known 
rules  and  principles ;  though  the  higher,  or  abstract  reason 
that  determines  them,  and  whence  they  might  have  been 
foreknown,  far  surpasses  our  powers  of  thought.  In  these, 
sacred  themes  distinct  convictions  may  be  attained  which, 
because  they  result  from  a  spiritual  sense  of  the  perfec- 
tions of  God,  are  not  at  all  to  be  conveyed  from  mind  to 
mind,  or  embodied  in  any  forms  of  language.  Neverthe- 
less they  are  as  valid  as  the  best  of  those  conclusions  that 
are  drawn  from  the  first  elements  of  knowledge. 


RUDIMENT  OP  CHRISTIAN  MAGNANIMITY.         291 

But  if  extraordinary  intellectual  powers  may  find  a 
scope  in  the  principal  themes  of  religion,  and  if  the  exer- 
cise of  them  to  good  advantage  demands  always  the  ac- 
companiment of  spiritual  convictions  ;  there  is  also  need 
of  that  generous  simplicity  of  sentiment  which  distin- 
guishes a  magnanimous  spirit  from  the  mere  reasoner. 
When  the  process  of  rigid  analysis  is  applied  to  subjects 
that  stretch  far  beyond  the  range  of  human  knowledge, 
nothing  but  embarrassment  can  be  the  result ;  and  to 
gain  freedom  we  must  return  to  those  simple  sentiments 
that  are,  on  many  occasions,  better  guides  than  abstruse 
reasoning.  Thus  it  is  that  a  frigid  scrutiny  of  the  ideas 
brought  together  in  the  scheme  of  human  redemption  gen- 
erates, often,  a  misgiving,  as  if  there  must  be  a  want 
of  substance  in  the  ingenuous  expressions  employed  by 
the  Apostles,  when  they  speak  of  the  grace  and  love  of  the 
Saviour  in  "  giving  himself  a  ransom  for  many  ;"  or  as  if, 
after  the'several  shares  of  the  Divine  and  human  natures 
are  allotted,  nothing  remains  which  can  distinctly  be  held  as 
adequate  motive  of  affectionate  gratitude.  Any  such  idea 
is  the  consequence  of  attempting  to  analyse  that  of  which 
none  of  the  elements  come  within  our  grasp.  A  feeling 
of  this  sort  maybe  surmised  to  lurk  beneath  a  certain  style 
of  pulpit  exaggeration,  employed  perhaps  sometimes,  to 
conceal  the  perplexities  of  the  mind,  or  to  hide  that  chasm 
in  the  heart  which  should  be  filled  by  devout  affections. 

A  cold  scientific  distribution  of  the  parts  of  the  satis- 
faction once  offered  for  sins  by  the  Divine  Mediator,  and 
which  so  much  annoys  ingenuous  minds  in  books  of 
divinity,  finds  no  precedent  in  the  style  of  the  Apostles. 
They  (better  taught  than  logicians  could  teach  them)  spoke 
on  all  occasions  of  their  Lord,  as  the  Saviour  of  the  world 
in  a  manner  which  has  no  reason  if  we  forget  his  human- 


292  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

ity  ;  and  no  piety  if  we  deny  his  divinity  ;  and  DO  force, 
if  we  attempt  in  any  manner  to  sever  the  one  from' the  oth- 
er. The  polemic  term  6sa.\6£uvus,  happy  and  comprehensive 
as  it  may  seem,  was  not  used  by  them,  because  they  felt 
no  need  of  it ;  or  had  never  thought  of  so  distinguishing 
their  conception  of  the  Person  of  Christ  as  is  implied  in 
the  construction  of  a  phrase  of  this  sort.  Like  some  other 
term  now  unhappily  become  almost  indispensable,  it 
points  to  heresy ;  and  would  fall  out  of  usage  if  there 
were  no  sophistry  in  the  world,  and  no  gainsayers. 

The  inspired  writers  never  pause  when  they  speak  of 
Christ,  as  if  they  must  use  caution  in  rightly  assigning 
the  terms  they  employ.  The  characteristic  of  their  man- 
ner is  unity,  rather  than  abtruse  precision.  Unconscious 
of  embarrassment,  they  ascribe,  in  the  fullest  and  clearest 
terms,  to  the  Saviour  of  men,  emotions  and  modes  of 
action  which  metaphysical  severity  refuses  to  predicate  of 
the  eternal  and  unchangeable  Deity  ;  in  the  same  breath, 
and  without  a  note  of  surprise,  attribute  to  him  perfections 
which  it  were  blasphemy  to  challenge  for  any  but  the 
Possessor  of  omniscience,  omnipotence,  and  eternity. 

This  harmony  of  style  on  a  point  where  scepticism 
always  stumbles,  and  where  superstition  always  runs  into 
extravagance,  ought  to  be  deemed  a  signal  proof  of  the 
presence  of  a  wisdom  more  than  human.  A  vigorous 
understanding,  and  a  temper  that  spurns  the  sinuosities  of 
unbelief,  when  guided  by  the  same  Spirit  of  Truth,  confi- 
dently follows  on  the  path  trodden  by  Apostles.  No 
unsound  sentiment  need  be  imputed,  when  it  is  said,  that 
a  great  mind — informed  from  above,. will,  in  a  peculiar 
manner,  catch  by  sympathy  the  greatness — the  magna- 
nimity, which  belongs  to  the  character,  and  actions  of  the 
Saviour  of  the  world.  In  this  character,  and  in  these  ac- 
tions— in  these  words  of  grace,  and  deeds  of  mercy,  scope  is 


RUDIMENT  OF  CHRISTIAN  MAGNANIMITY.         293 

found,  and  more  than  scope,  for  the  profoundest  emotions 
which  the  spirit  of  man  may  at  all  sustain.  The  mind 
reaches  no  limit  on  this  ground :  the  objects  of  its  medita- 
tion, by  a  combination  mysterious  truly — possess  at  once 
all  the  distinctness  and  vivacity  that  belongs  to  what  is 
human,  and  all  the  depth  and  height  that  attach  to  what 
is  divine.  Although  indeed  the  attempt  must  always  be 
fruitless  to  penetrate  the  incomprehensible  union  of  the 
divine  and  human  nature — the  actual  harmony  which 
that  union  produced  is  forcibly  and  clearly  perceived  by 
the  moral  sense; — and  eminently  so  by  minds  of  extraordi- 
nary power.  Scarcely  a  sentence  recorded  by  the  evan- 
gelists, and  scarcely  an  action  narrated,  fails  to  present, 
with  more  or  less  distinctness  and  in  wondrous  unison, 
the  divine  and  human  attributes  of 0 him  who  spake  "  as 
never  man  spake."  Remove  from  the  discources  of  Jesus, 
and  from  his  conduct,  the  mystery  of  his  Person,  and 
every  just  idea  of  fitness  is  shocked ; — nay,  the  entire 
narrative  becomes  incredible ;  or  rather  let  us  say,  that,  if 
the  mind  be  vigorous  and  sane,  it  is  incomparably  easier 
to  admit  the  divinity  of  Christ,  than  to  reject  it,  and  read 
the  Gospels  without  being  confounded  and  perplexed. 

Controversy  (inevitable  though  it  be)  spoils  whatever  it 
affects.  The  Controversy  of  the  Church  with  the  impug- 
ners  of  the  first  truth  of  Christianity  has,  if  we  might  use 
the  allusion,  quite  chaied  the  resplendent  surface  of 
Revealed  Religion,  so  that  the  impression  we  should  other- 
wise have  received  from  the  Gospel  narrative  is  vastly 
impaired.  Our  long  continued  litigation  with  sophists  has 
drawn  us  away  from  the  native  force,  to  the  bare  gram- 
matical value  of  certain  words  and  phrases.  But  the 
native  force  of  language  is  nothing  more  than  its  true 
value,  in  all  cases  when,  an  ingenuous  writer  adapts 

26* 


294  SATURDAY  EVENING] 

himself  only  to  ingenuous  readers :  and  the  denuded 
meaning  which  criticism  evolves,  bears  much  the  same 
relation  to  the  genuine  sense  of  the  writer,  which  a  sear 
anatomical  preparation,  with  its  shrivelled  fibres,  and 
blanched  bones,  bears  to  the  living  man.  If  the  believer 
suffers  by  this  means,  the  heretic  much  more :  and  it  will 
seldom  (perhaps  never)  be  found  that  the  naked  gramma- 
tical power  of  language  will  avail  any  thing  with  a  mind 
that  has  lost,  or  thrown  aside,  all  its  sensibility  to  natural 
impressions.  The  language  of  legal  instruments  is  indeed 
constructed  on  the  principle  of  insuring  a  definite  sense, 
against  the  utmost  endeavours  of  chicanery :  and  yet,  with 
all  its  redundancies,  it  often  fails  to  effect  this  object- 
Knaves  find  a  flaw — and  triumph  over  common  sense  and 
justice.  Truly  it  was  jn  another  spirit  that  the  Apostles 
wrote  and  spoke ;  and  whoever  will  not  listen  to  them  in 
their  own  spirit,  must  go  away  with  his  error  as  his  pun- 
ishment. 

Has  not  a  punitive  debility  invaded  the  mind  that  can 
meditate  upon  the  character  of  Him  whom  the  evangelists 
describe — can  muse  upon  his  pregnant  words,  can  imagine 
the  awful  serenity  and  gentle  mercy  of*  his  tones — can 
stand  by  while  he  calls  the  dead  from  the  bier,  or  the  grave 
— can  behold  him  stilling  the  winds— can  hear  him  remit 
sins,  or  announce  the  judgment  which  himself  is  to  ad- 
minister— or  claim  and  accept  the  adoration  of  his  follow- 
ers ; — can  follow  him  at  length  to  the  mount  of  death  ; 
— can  listen  when,  about  to  ascend  to  his  throne,  he 
challenges  to  himself  universal  dominion  ;  and  after  thus 
walking  side  by  side  with  one  such  as  was  Jesus,  can  pro- 
fess to  have  seen  nothing,  to  have  heard  nothing,  but  what 
is  on  the  level  of  mere  humanity  ?  No  blindness  is  like 
the  blindness  of  such  a  mind  !  Infatuation,  when  it  ex- 
tends so  far,  is  not  simple  error  ; — but  disease. 


RUDIMENT  OF  CHRISTIAN  MAGNANIMITY.          295 

Once  discerned,  accepted,  and  devoutly  entertained — 
the  mediatorial  character  and  vicarious  work  of  Christ 
becomes  an  exclusive  object,  and  generates  an  exclusive 
motive.  All  admiration,  all  gratitude,  all  affection,  must 
converge  upon  this  one  centre.  And  if  he  who  so  believes 
is  indeed  susceptible  of  magnanimous  sentiments,  and 
capable  of  magnanimous  conduct,  then  will  he,  the  more 
gladly  than  others,  forget  every  pretension,  and  deny  every 
ambition  ;  and  though  in  the  circle  of  his  fellow-men,  he 
might  glory,  will  "  glory  only  in  the  Lord." 


XXIII. 
THE  DISSOLUTION  OF  HUMAN  NATURE. 

"  It  is  Appointed  to  all  Men  once  to  Die." 


WE  are  free  to  assume  that  the  separation  of  the 
elements  of  human  nature  at  death  is  a  regular  stage  in 
the  economy  of  the  moral  world.  This  may  be  believed, 
notwithstanding  the  fact  of  ils  having  supervened  in  con- 
sequence of  the  offence  of  the  first  man.  Death  is  indeed 
penal,  and  therefore-  must  in  one  sense  be  deemed  an 
after-act  in  the  order  of  the  Divine  procedures  :  neverthe- 
less it  was  not  merely  foreseen,  but  no  doubt  predeter- 
mined for  the  accomplishment  of  some  specific  purpose. 
It  is  true  that  the  breaking  up  of  the  animal  machinery 
under  the  appalling  circumstances  that  attend  it,  does 
more  than  dimly  display  its  primary  reason,  and  speaks 
of  transgression,  and  of  the  anger  of  Heaven.  But  many 
analogies  in  nature,  as  well  as  what  we  know  of  the  rules 
of  the  Divine  government,  lead  us  to  suppose  that  there  is 
a  further  purpose  appended  to  the  primary  one  of  declar- 
ing the  displeasure  of  God  against  sin. 

If  death  be  punitive,  so  likewise  is  the  necessity  imposed 
upon  man  of  toiling  for  his  subsistence :  and  so  is  that 
constitution  which  secures  the  perpetuation  of  the  species. 
And  yet  the  most  signal  of  all  the  natural  benefits  which 
he  receives  from  his  Maker  are,  directly  or  indirectly,  con- 
sequent upon  both  the  law  of  labour,  and  the  sexual 
relationship.  These  appointments  were  a  curse  in  form  ; 
but  a  blessing  mfact.  Or  if  it  be  still  true  that  each  of 


THE  DISSOLUTION  OF  HUMAN  NATURE.  297 

the  three  preserves  and  displays  its  punitive  character,  it 
is  not  less  true  of  the  second  and  the  third  (the  entire 
operation  of  which  we  can  observe)  that  the  penalty 
crowns  itself  with  praise,  in  the  good  it  confers ;  a  direct 
analogy  would  lead  us  then  to  presume  as  much  concern- 
ing the  first.  Or  it  would  authorize  the  conclusion  that, 
as  the  necessity  of  labour,  and  the  mutual  dependence 
of  the  sexes,  are' found  to  be  the  occasion  of  advancement 
and  of  delight,  when  man  is  wise  and  humane  ;  though 
of  misery,  when  he  is  ignorant  and  ferocious  ;  so  death 
secures  some  special  advantage  to  the  good  ;  though  to 
the  bad  it  can  show  none  but  its  primary  vindictive  in- 
tention. 

The  many  intimations  we  gather  from  the  Scriptures 
on  this  subject  forbid  it  to  be  thought  that  death  is  a  blank 
pause  in  the  course  of  the  human  system,  or  a  fruitless  ar- 
rest and  interruption  of  the  process  of  that  intellectual 
and  moral  life  which  had  so  lately  commenced.  On  the 
contrary,  the  notices  of  the  inspired  volume  imply  that  it  is 
rather  the  means  of  evolving  certain  higher  principles  of 
that  life,  with  a  view  to  the  ultimate  advancement  of  our 
nature.  If  we  might  speak,  for  a  moment,  of  that  state 
of  which  death  is  the  introduction,  as  a  stage  in  the  NA- 
TURAL HISTORY  OP  MAN,  we  should  presume  it  to  be  a 
season  of  germination,  during  which  preparatives  are 
going  on  for  a  new  construction  of  the  elements  of  life,  to 
more  advantage,  or  on  a  more  expanded  model.  If  the 
spiritual  and  the  physical,  pails  of  our  nature  are  to  be  thus 
severed,  and  to  be  held  in  disunion  during  an  extended  period, 
and  yet  are  afterwards  to  be  recomposed ;  it  would  seem 
probable  that  the  spiritual  part  (which  survives)  will  then 
be  occupied  in  bringing  to  maturity  some  of  those  powers, 
or  in  cherishing  those  habits  that  were  the  most  obstruc- 


298  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

ted  by  the  movements  of  the  physical  machinery  (which 
falls  to  the  dust) ;  or  in  other  words,  that  a  new  balance 
of  the  powers  of  human  nature  is  contemplated,  for  which 
preparations  must  be  made  by  allowing  a  long  and  unin- 
terrupted play  to  certain  faculties,  as  freed  from  others. 

In  attempting,  for  a  moment,  an  inquiry  on  this  sub- 
ject, it  will  be  neither  necessary  nor  proper  to  advance 
upon  the  arduous  ground  of  abstruse  or  metaphysical 
science  ;  since,  except  with  a  view  to  practical  inferences, 
a  theme  like  this  would  not  here  be  introduced.  And  as- 
suredly practicable  inferences  in  matters  of  religion  must 
be  drawn  from  facts  or  principles  known  to  all  men  ;  or 
at  least  familiarly  intelligible  to  all,  when  clearly  stated. 

Every  one  then,  how  little  soever  he  may  be  conver- 
sant with  Intellectual  Philosophy,  must  be  conscious  of  the 
reality  of  the  distinction  commonly  made  between  those 
emotions  that  belong  to  the  imagination,  and  those  that 
spring  from  what  is  termed — the  Moral  Sense.  Nothing 
is  much  more  trite  or  simple  than  this  classification  of  our 
feelings.  As  for  example  :  at  one  moment  we  apply  to  the 
objects  which  may  be  actually  or  mentally  before  us,  the 
terms  beautiful,  or  deformed  ;  sublime,  or  mean  ;  graceful 
magnificent,  terrific,  harmonious,  discordant.  And  these 
Avords  connect  themselves  instantly  with  the  sensations, 
whether  pleasurable  or  uneasy,  which  such  objects  awaken. 
But  it  is  on  occasions  altogether  of  another  sort  that  the 
terms  good,  or  evil ;  benign,  or  malignant ;  generous,  or 
base ,  pure,  or  corrupt ;  are  employed  :  and  our  feelings 
of  complacency  or  repugnance,  in  these  latter  instances, 
manifestly  belong  to  a  faculty  quite  distinct  from  the  im- 
agination. 

The  rudest  understanding  perceives  the  essential  dis- 
similarity of  these  two  classes  of  our  emotions.  And  even. 


THE  DISSOLUTION  OF  HUMAN  NATURE.  4          299 

the  illiterate  aud  the  vulgar  so  far  observe  the  difference 
in  their  use  of  language,  as  to  prove  that  it  is  broad  and 
real ;  not  nice  or  theoretic. 

Now  no  one  can  need  to  have  it  proved  to  him,  that 
piety  and  virtue  take  their  range  altogether  among  the 
emotions  of  the  latter,  not  among  those  of  the. former  class. 
No  one  imagines  that  the  conceptions  he  may  form  (how 
just  soever  they  may  be),  of  the  Immensity,  the  Eternity, 
or  the  Omnipotence  of  the  Supreme  Being,  will  of  them- 
selves make  him  a  religious  man  :  he  may  conceive  all 
that  is  sublime,  or  magnificent,  or  awful,  quite  independent- 
ly of  any  affections  'that  ought  to  be  called  virtuous. 
We  must  think  of  God  as  absolutely  Holy — as  Just,  and 
Goo'd,  if  we  would  worship,  love  and  serve  him  : — that  is 
to  say,  the  emotions  of  the  moral  sense  must  be  awake- 
ned if  we  are  to  become  religious. 

The  Imagination  and  the  Moral  Emotions  are  not 
only  very  distinct ;  -but  they  are  very  differently  related  to 
the  physical  organization  :  and  this  difference  few  persons 
can  have  failed  to  notice.  Both  alike  are  attended  with 
some  correspondent  movement  in  the  animal  frame,  more  or 
less  conspicuous.  And  both  alike  are  liable  to  be  enhanc- 
ed or  repressed  by  causes  that  belong  to  the  animal  struc- 
ture : — in  both  classes  there  is  action  and  reactioh,  be. 
tween  Mind  and  Matter.  But  the  difference  is  this — 
That  the  emotions  which  strictly  attach  to  the  moral 
sense,  or  to  the  notion  of  good  and  evil,  of  right  and  wrong, 
and  which  have  no  connexion  either  with  the  imagination, 
or  the  selfish  passions,  though  they  affect  the  physical 
frame,  when  intense,  and  either  quicken  or  retard  the  ordi- 
nary movements  of  life,  do  so  in  a  manner  that  is  tranquil 
and  safe,  both  to  the  body  and  the  mind  ; — excitements 
of  this  sort  are  always  limited  ;  nor  are  they  liable  to  rapid 


300  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

augmentations,  such  as  would  endanger  either  health  or 
reason.  Indeed  in  most  cases  the  animal  excitement  or 
agitation  is  greater  in  the  first  moments  of  moral  emo- 
tion, than  afterwards  ;  and  though,  on  a  sudden  occasion 
of  this  sort,  the  pulse  may  be  accelerated,  and  the  spirits 
hurried,  this  movement  subsides,  even  while  the  inward 
sentiment  is  becoming  more  and  more  acute. 

It  is  otherwise  with  those  emotions  that  quicken  the 
imagination  ;  especially  with  such  of  them  as  are  very  viv- 
id and  profound.  These  stand  so  much  more  intimately 
connected  with  the  laws  of  animal  life,  or  in  other  words, 
the  affinity  or  sympathy  between  -mind  and  matter  is  in 
this  department,  so  immediate,  that  a  dangerous  correspon- 
dence takes  place  between  the  mental  emotion  and  the 
bodily  excitement.  And  not  only  so  ;  but  as  long  as  the 
emotion  continues,  the  excitement  goes  on  to  heighten  • 
and  if  the  former  be  at  all  enhanced,  the  latter  mounts  up 
with  fearful  rapidity.  Strong  imaginative  emotions  at 
once  shake  the  structure  of  animal  life,  and  [endanger  the 
integrity  of  reason  ;  and  they  do  so  it  seems,  because,  in- 
stead of  spending  their  force  outwardly  (as  the  affections  of 
the  moral  sense  do),  they  bear  inwardly,  more  and  more, 
upon  the  centre  of  the  soul :  and  so  accumulate  their  force 
every  moment,  and  aggravate  its  physical  effects. 

All  this  is  understood  by  persons  of  a  highly  sensitive 
temperament ;  who,  if  they  are  prudent,  carefully  abstain 
from  surrendering  themselves  to  any  feelings  that  include 
impressions  of  wonder,  terror,  or  sublimity ;  or  even  of 
admiration,  or  dramatic  sympathy.  That  rapid  progres- 
sion which  is  characteristic  of  these  feelings  quickly  bears 
away  the  resistance  of  reason,  and  gains  a  mastery  over 
the  will.  Damage  to  the  mind,  or  to  the  body,  or  to  both, 
ensues,  unless  the  exciting  cause  be  presently  removed. 


THE  DISSOLUTION  OP  HUMAN  NATURE.  301 

And  while  the  milder  and  more  agreeable  imaginative 
sentiments  debilitate  the  intellectual  and  animal  systems — 
if  too  frequently  indulged,  or  indulged  to  excess  ;  the 
stronger  and  more  painful  emotions  rend  and  distract  both. 
Ideas  of  vastriess,  infinity,  and  irresistible  power,  are  to  be 
admitted  only  with  caution*  if  the  mind  be  highly  sus- 
ceptible of  their  influence.  Such  minds  are  conscious, 
often,  that  they  are  approaching  the  brink  of  an  abyss, 
whence  they  must  hastily  retire — or  be  lost.  The  eye, 
the  ear,  the  heart,  must  be  diverted,  and  filled  with  what- 
ever is  common,  familiar,  or  trivial. 

These  well-known  facts  are  all  we  need  now  have  to 
do  with ;  nor  are  we  obliged  to  descend  beneath  the 
surface,  as  if  to  explore  the  occult  conformation  of  human 
nature.  Instead  of  doing  so,  we  must  note  another 
remarkable  difference  between  the  Moral  and  Imaginative 
emotions,  resulting  from  their  connexion  severally  with 
the  body.  It  is  this — that,  when  both  are  in  activity 
together,  the  latter,  in  consequence,  as  it  seems,  of  their 
stronger  affinity  with  animal  life,  almost  always,  and 
very  quickly,  prevail  over  the  former,  and  expel  them 
from  the  soul ;  the  moral  fades,  and  the  imaginative 
brightens. 

Nothing  is  more  frequent  than  such  combinations :  the 
structure  of  the  visible  world,  in  all  its  parts,  produces 
them.  Impressions  of  grandeur  or  beauty,  of  sublimity, 
of  power,  of  destructive  force,  or  of  malignant  violence, 
are  conveyed  often  by  the  very  same  objects,  or  on  the 
same  occasions,  which  excite  either  the  gentler  affections 
of  love,  gratitude,  or  pity  ;  or  the  more  stern  sentiments 
of  rectitude,  and  truth.  In  such  instances,  ordinarily,  the 
first  species  of  feeling  intimately  combines  itself  with  the 
second  ;  so  that  to  sever  the  two  is  almost  impracticable  ; 

27 


302  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

as  a.  giant  closely  grasps  him  whom  he  is  about  to  throw 
to  the  earth,  and  crush.  But  when  in  combination,  the 
better  element  is  apt  to  merge  or  disappear.  Hence 
arises  the  fatal  facility  wherewith  imaginative  spirits  pass 
over  from  the  solid  ground  of  piety  and  virtue,  to  the 
illusory  region  of  enthusiastic  excitement.  It  is  not  true 
that  the  religious  and  virtuous  affections  have  to  make 
head  only  against  animal  desires,  or  malignant  passions ; 
for  they  must  also  maintain  their  ground  in  opposition  to 
the  more  insidious  encroachments  of  imaginative  impres- 
sions ;  and  these,  intimately  mingled  as  they  are  with  all 
our  feelings  (to  subserve  an  important  purpose)  give  no 
warning  of  inimical  intention, 

If  we  duly  appreciate  the  advantage  or  power,  possessed 
by  imaginative  emotions,  in  consequence  of  their  close 
alliance  with  the  animal  frame,  we  must  reflect  upon  what 
not  seldom  takes  place  in  sleep,  when  the  voluntary  func- 
tions being  suspended,  and  the  susceptibility  of  the  nervous 
system  greatly  diminished,  images  of  sublimity  or  terror, 
such  as,  while  waking,  the  mind  dares  not  dwell  upon, 
pass  in  still  pomp  before  the  mental  vision.  Through  the 
hushed  palace  of  fancy  a  vast  or  threatening  pageant 
moves  on — powerless  and  innoxious.  Or  if  some  faint 
excitement  accompanies  the  dream,  it  is  incomparably  less 
titan  would  be  produced  by  the  same  spectacle,  attended 
by  the  same  impression  of  reality,  in  a  waking  hour. 
In  presence  of  the  most  appalling  ideal  objects,  the  spirit 
— conscious,  yet  quiescent,  and  as  if  it  knew  itself  to  be  a 
secure  spectator  of  the  scene,  looks  on,  or  even  takes  its 
sport  in  freakish  mood,  with  fantastic  or  ludicrous  concep- 
tions ;  and  seems  to  enjoy  a  pastime — now  with  laughable 
absurdities,  now  with  gigantic  horrors  ! 

Thus  it  appears  that  the  Imagination,  though  not  a 


THE  DISSOLUTION  Of  HUMAN  NATURE.  303 

whit  less  active  during  sleep  than  at  other  times  (perhaps 
more  so)  has  lost  then,  by  the  quiescence  of  the  animal 
functions,  its  power  of  domineering  over  the  system.  IB 
truth  we  ought  here  to  admire  the  beneficent  contrivance 
which  has  so  blended  the  human  frame  as  that,  when  the 
controlling  faculty  of  reason  is  suspended,  the  liability  to 
perilous  agitation  from  ideal  objects  is  also  in  abeyance. 
If  it  were  otherwise,  our  dreams  would  be  our  masters  ; 
nay,  the  most  cruel  tyrants ;  and  we  should  be  liable  to 
start  from  sleep  to  madness. 

And  now  let  it  be  supposed  (we  advance  merely  an 
hypothesis)  that  it  is  an  indispensable  part  of  the  education 
of  the  spirit,  with  a  view  to  its  ultimate  destiny,  to  bring 
it,  if  we  might  so  speak,  within  and  among  the  stupendous 
inner-movements  of  the  universe ; — or  to  afford  it  a  full 
view  of  objects,  personages,  and  actions,  the  merest  glimpse 
of  which,  constituted  as  we  are  of  matter  and  mind,  would 
dissever  the  frail  structure  of  nature ; — or  would  at  least 
so  excite  the  imagination  as  to  overpower  entirely  the 
moral  sense.  But  it  is  this  very  sense  of  good  and  evil — 
this  moral  perception,  and  the  tranquil  affections  attaching 
thereto,  that  are  to  be  brought  into  activity,  and  to  be 
employed  upon  the  amazing  scenes  of  the  INTERIOR 
WORLD. 

By  our  alliance  with  matter  we  are  detained  en  the 
surface  of  things  ;  and  are  conversant  only  with  sem- 
blances, and  with  effects.  But  it  remains  for  us,  perhaps> 
to  become  conversant  with  substances^  and  causes  r  we 
must  go  and  contemplate  the  deep  secret  of  God's  empire. 
We  must  be  led  up  and  down  among  the  works,  and  gaze 
upon  the  reason  of  things.  And  yet  this  intuition  is  to 
produce  its  whole  effect,  undisturbed  and  unmixed,  upon 
the  faculties  which  constitute  man  a  moral  and  responsi-. 


304         .  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

ble  being.  These  faculties,  therefore,  are  to  be  set  at 
large  from  their  affinity  with  all  those  intermediate  senti- 
ments which,  in  the  present  state  form  the  amalgam  of 
mind  and  matter. 

The  separate  spirit  is  then  (on  this  supposition)  to  be 
thrown  upon  the  play  of  its  AFFECTIONS,  whether  these 
be  benign  or  malign — pure  or  depraved  ;  and  it  is  more- 
over to  be  thrown  upon  them  in  presence  of  objects  of  the 
most  stupendous  magnitude.  In  place  of  the  measured 
and  mingled  emotions  of  the  present  life,  there  are  to  be 
encountered,  in  the  next  stage  of  our  existence,  excite- 
ments of  overwhelming  force ;  and  all  of  one  quality. 
And  amid  them,  the  soul — quiescent  in  regard  to  what 
might  move  it  to  wonder,  or  terror,  is  to  be  nakedly  sensi- 
tive to  the  MORAL  QUALITY  of  what  it  beholds.  The 
notions  of  right  and  wrong — of  good  and  evil ; — the  emo- 
tions of  love  or  hatred — of  joy  or  sorrow — of  complacency 
or  compunction  which  here  take  turns  for  a  moment,  or  for 
an  hour,  with  a  thousand  divers  affections,  and  so  are  al- 
ways abated,  and  very  quickly  diverted,  shall  there  hold 
undisputed  empire — shall  be  countervailed  by  no  rival,  no 
antagonist  power.  Human  nature,  thus  reduced  to  its 
most  simple  element,  shall  exist  in  one  mood  only — that 
of  an  intense  conciousness  of — its  own  moral  condition  ! 

The  whole  economy  of  revealed  religion  hinges  on  the 
doctrine  that  the  commixture  of  good  and  evil  we  see 
around  us,  belongs  to  the  present  state  alone ;  and  shall 
quite  disappear  in  the  next.  That  is  to  say,  that  the  ab- 
horrent principles  which  here,  by  a  sort  of  violence,  are 
held  in  combination,  shall  when  the  temporary  purpose  of 
their  union  is  accomplished,  divide,  to  right  and  left,  and 
with  irresistible  avulsion  fly  off  to  opposite  quarters.  If 
so,  it  is  only  natural  to  suppose  that  each  new  comer  upon 


THE  DISSOLUTION  Of  HUMAN  NATURE. 

that  region  of  separate  elements  shall  pass,  as  if  by  a  phys- 
ical necessity,  to  the  side  he  is  allied  to,  whether  for  the 
better  or  the  worse.  The  sphere  that  encircles  whatever 
is  holy,  and  that  which  embraces  all  evil,  must  draw  to 
themselves,  severally,  all  particles  of  kindred  quality. — 
Nothing  can  there  float  at  large  ;  but  must  fall  in  upon 
its  proper  centre — and  so  abide. 

But  an  absolute  partition  of  human  spirits,  like  this, 
may  seem  not  to  bear  analogy  with  the  present  order  of 
things,  wherein  no  such  conspicuous  distinction  offers 
itself  to  our  perceptions,  as  might  be  made  the  ground  of 
a  classification  so  simple.  What  soul  is  so  base  as  to  re- 
tain no  particle  of  goodness  ?  or  what  so  pure,  as  to  be 
free  wholly  from  alloy  ?  The  Scriptures  solve  this  diffi- 
culty ;  and  while  they  affirm,  in  the  most  positive  manner, 
the  future  division  of  the  good  and  evil,  indicate  plainly 
the  rule  on  which  it  shall  proceed.  If  merits  and  defects, 
virtues  and  vices,  were,  in  the  instance  of  each  human 
spirit,  to  be  summoned  up  and  balanced,  (the  supposition 
is  absurd,)  and  the  fate  of  each  to  be  determined  according 
to  the  preponderance  of  good  or  evil,  it  must  happen  in 
innumerable  cases  that  a  decision  so  momentous  would 
turn  upon  an  incalculably  minute  excess  of  the  preponder- 
ating quality. 

The  scriptural  doctrine  of  two  states — good  and  evil, 
can  never  be  conceived  of  as  the  issue  of  the  human  sys- 
tem, without  admitting  some  rule  far  more  absolute  and 
simple  than  that  of  a  balance  of  merit::.  No  controversy 
can  arise  concerning  this  necessary  rule.  Of  every  human 
spirit  it  may  be  said  that  it  posseses,  or  not,  that  affection 
to  God  which,  when  freed  from  the  embarrassments  that 
here  surround  us,  will  spring  up  toward  its  object — will 
break  away,  exultant,  from  every  defilement ;  and  con- 

27* 


306  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

nect  the  created  to  the  uncreated  Spirit,  between  which  a 
real  alliance  had  already  taken  place.  Has  then  the  soul 
at  the  moment  when  its  active  powers  are  broken  up,  and 
when  it  is  launched  upon  the  severed  elements  of  good 
and  evil,  been  quickened  toward  the  Moral  Perfections  of 
the  Supreme  Being  ?  Has  it  yet  entertained,  or  not,  the 
rudiment  of  love,  of  loyality,  and  of  submission  to  the 
divine  government  1  Is  it  affiliated  to  God ;  or  is  it 
estranged  and  in  rebellion  ?  Does  it  abhor  the  contamina- 
tion of  its  present  state  ?  Has  it  sympathy  with  the  wor- 
ship that  encircles  the  throne  of  the  Most  High ;  or  is  it 
destitute  both  of  the  emotions,  and  of  the  habits,  of  grate- 
ful and  joyous  adoration  ? 

What  is  the  conception  which,  individually,  we  enter- 
tain of  future  felicity  1  Is  God  the  desired  centre  and 
fountain  of  the  happiness  we  think  of ;  or  does  the  mind 
draw  its  idea  of  heaven  (if  at  all  it  thinks  of  heaven)  with 
atheistic  perversity,  from  those  elements  of  pleasure  which 
the  present  life  affords  ?  Is  the  soul  alive  to  God  or  not? 
The  answer  to  these  questions  must  discriminate  spirit 
from  spirit,  when  each,  in  its  moral  element  only,  enters  the 
world  where  moral  elements  are  parted. 

Every  one  might  then  readily  imagine  the  state  into 
which  the  dissolution  of  the  body  must  plunge  him,  by 
conceiving  of  himself  as  stript  of  all  faculties,  and  all 
emotions,  but  those  that  belong  to  the  moral  sentiments  ; 
and  as  so  confronted  with  the  unsullied  brightness  of  the 
Divine  Majesty.  To  die,  is  to  come— denuded  of  all  but 
conscience,  into  the  open  presence  of  the  HOLY  ONE. 


&;          XXIV. 

THE  STATE  OF  SOULS. 

"  They  all  Live  unto  God." 


The  Christian  doctrine  of  the  resurrection  of  the  body 
implies  far  more  than  was  ever  contained  in  the  conjec- 
tures of  sages,  or  of  poets,  who  thought  of  nothing  better, 
in  their  conception  of  an  after-life,  than  a  dream-like 
leisure — dim  and  unproductive,  which  has  no  affinity 
with  the  actual  principles  of  human  nature. 

We  must  say  almost  the  same  of  the  common  notion 
of  Chrstians  on  this  subject,  who,  although  they  are  right, 
so  far  as  they  follow  the  suggestions  of  the  devout  senti- 
ments, fall  very  far  short  of  that  idea  of  the  ultimate  state 
of  man  which  the  Scriptures  authorize,  when  they  think 
of  immortality  only  as  an  elysium — more  pure  and  bright 
than  that  of  the  Greeks.  Piety  seizes  upon  the  principal 
element  of  eternal  life,  and  neglects  all  beside.  But  this 
notion  which  contains  one  idea  merely,  though  the  prin- 
ciple, is  strictly  applicable  only  to  that  preparatory  state, 
in  which  the  rudiment  of  human  nature  alone  survives  : 
— it  very  imperfectly  corresponds  with  the  ultimate,  or 
restored  and  mature  state,  wherein  the  rudiments  gather 
around  it  again  the  various  constituents  of  intellectual, 
moral  and  physical  existence. 

The  tendency  to  subtilize  in  whatever  is  future  and  un- 
known, has  carried  the  meditations  of  Christians  wide  of 
the  track  upon  which  the  intimations  of  Scripture,  fairly 
pursued,  would  lead  us.  The  reorganization  of  the  body 


308  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

implies  the  restoration  of  the  mutual  dependency  of  mind 
and  matter ; — implies,  that  man  shall  again,  as  at  first, 
conform  himself  to  the  laws  of  an  external  world ; — shall 
blend  in  his  own  nature  the  diverse  elements  of  the  natural 
and  the  spiritual  system )— shall  entertain,  once  more, 
those  mixed  sentiments  that  result  from  such  a  union  ;— 
shall,  in  a  word,  become  again,  and  for  ever,  a  creature  of 
action,  desire,  advancement ; — of  knowledge,  enterprise, 
and  achievement.  He  shall  move  in  a  sphere  that  will 
demand  from  him  forethought,  courage,  and  wisdom  ;  as 
well  as  give  play  to  his  affections. 

All  this  might  be  distinctly  inferred  from  those  passages 
of  the  Inspired  Volume  which  speak  of  the  after  life.  But 
nothing  of  the  sort  belongs  to  the  state  of  dissolution, 
which  retains  only  the  first  rudiment  of  existence,  and  in 
which  active  powers,  as  well  as  wants,  are  suspended. 
The  season  of  denudation  must  certainly  possess  a  char- 
acter altogether  unlike  that  which  precedes,  or  that  which 
follows  it ;  nor  can  it  well  be  thought  to  include  action,  or 
progression,  or  change  ;  which  imply  the  working  of  the 
parts  or  functions  of  human  nature,  one  upon  the  other  ; 
and  therefore  demand  complexity,  and  construction  of 
elements. 

Something,  clearly,  must  be  assumed  as  constituting 
the  ultimate  principle  of  our  nature  : — or  that  towards 
which  all  other  faculties  tend,  and  to  which  they  stand  re- 
lated as  means.  It  were  most  irrational  to  name  as  an 
ultimate  principle,  any  power  which  is  subservient,  and 
which  is  exerted  always  with  a  reference  to  some  ulterior 
purpose.  For  example ;  the  senses,  the  appetites,  and  the 
instincts  of  the  animal  frame,  are  plainly  nothing  more 
than  instruments,  of  which  no  explanation  can  be  given 
until  something  beyond  themselves  is  taken  into  account. 


THE   STATE  OP  SOULS.  309 

The  reasoning  faculty,  also,  not  less  than  the  senses,  or 
the  bodily  instincts,  is  always  subservient  to  some  end. 
Reason  labours  to  achieve  a  particular  purpose,  or  to  re- 
solve a  given  doubt,  and  is  impelled  by  a  motive  derived 
from  that  purpose.  Reason  then  is  not  the  rudiment  of 
human  nature.  With  even  less  appearance  of  truth  could 
we  assign  any  such  honour  to  Memory,  or  Imagination. 
As  well  affirm  that  a  man  exists  and  acts,  only  that  he 
may  keep  a  diary  of  his  movements  ;  or  that  the  record 
is  the  motive  of  the  life. 

We  can  come  home  to  nothing  in  our  survey  of  human 
nature,  but  to  the  affections  and  moral  emotions,  which 
are  not  subservient ;  and  are  not  governed  by  ulterior 
purposes.  It  is  upon  these  that  the  soul  may  repose. 
We  advance  a  step  then.  If  the  moral  sentiments  and 
the  affections  are  the  prime  principles  of  our  nature,  and 
if  their  actual  condition,  or  the  habits  that  attach  to  them, 
determine  the  character,  they  must,  in  a  sovereign  man- 
ner, decide  the  fate  of  every  one — for  the  better  or  the 
worse,  in  that  moment  when  the  spirit  enters  upon  the 
region  where  no  susceptibilities  are  awake ;  or,  which  is  the 
same  thing,  where  no  objects  are  found  but  such  as  affect 
the  moral  powers.  If,  when  the  connexion  with  matter 
is  dissolved,  an  immediate  consciousness  is  to  be  had  of 
the  Divine  Presence,  there  can  be  no  more  room  left  for 
mixed  or  ambiguous  moral  sentiments.  The  spirit,  quick, 
throughout  with  the  feeling  of  good  and  evil,  is  sur- 
rounded on  every  side  with  the  GREAT  OBJECT  of  all 
such  feelings ;  even  as  the  mote  that  swims  in  the  bright- 
ness of  the  upper  skies,  is  encompassed  with  the  effulgence 
of  noon.  To  DIE,  is  to  burst  upon  the  blaze  of  Uncreated 

Light,  and  to  be  sensitive  to  its  beams  ; — and  to  nothing 
i 


310  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

Among  those  numerous  passages  of  the  Sacred  Volume 
which  bear  upon  the  separate  state,  few,  if  any,  will  be 
found,  that  do  not  directly  convey,  or  indirectly  authenti- 
cate the  belief,  that  the  realm  of  the  dead — of  the  pious 
dead,  is  in  a  special  manner  the  scene  of  PERPETUAL 
WORSHIP.  It  is  there  that  the  devout  affections,  undis- 
turbed by  other  faculties,  are  incessantly  in  efflux.  Adora- 
tion and  love,  it  is  true,  are  found  in  all  states  or  stages  of 
intelligent  existence  ;  but  in  the  place  of  souls,  worship 
is  the  one  occupation ; — shall  we  say  that  it  is  the  unchang- 
ing mode  of  that  rudimental  life  ? — Of  the  pious  dead  it 
may,  on  this  supposition,  be  affirmed,  in  a  sense  peculiar 
or  characteristic,  that  they — "  all  live  unto  God."  What- 
ever may  be  the  special  ground  of  argument  in  our  Lord's 
reply  to  the  Sadducees,  the  emphatic  phrase  he  employs 
when  he  speaks  of  the  patriarchs,  must  be  granted  to 
convey  the  idea,  we  now  assume.  "  Abraham  and  his 
faithful  sons  are  not  extinct,  as  your  doctrine  supposes  ; 
for,  long  after  their  disappearance  from  earth,  Jehovah 
affirms  his  actual  relationship  to  them,  and  uses  it  as  the 
motive  of  his  gracious  procedures  towards  their  descend- 
ants : — they  all  LIVE  UNTO  GOD.  Shall  God  then,  in 
whose  presence  they  exist,  fail  to  fulfil  the  promise  he  had 
made  them  T 

The  many  dim  phrases  that  are  scattered  over  the.  sur- 
face of  the  Hebrew  Scriptures,  and  of  which  the  reader 
of  modern  versions  takes  little  or  no  account ;  but  which 
make  allusion  to  the  Invisible  World,  are  all  in  harmony 
with  the  same  notion.  The  fathers  are  "  gone  into  Peace : 
— they  abide  '( under  the  shadow  of  the  Almighty" — who 
is  "  the  dwelling- place"  of  his  people,  "  through  all  genera- 
tions ;" — they  remain  "  in  His  secret  chamber"  (the  holy 
of  holies) :  they  dwell ''  in  his  Tabernacle j" — or  "  stand 


THE  STATE  OP  SOULS.  311 

in  his  Pavilion ;" — and  are  there  "  the  expectants  of  Jeho- 
vah/' continually  watching  the  movements  of  his  hand.'' 
The  author  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews  favours,  by 
obscure  intimations,  as  well  as  by  the  purport  of  his  argu- 
ment, the  Jewish  opinion  that  the  Tabernacle,  and  the 
worship  established  by  Moses  in  the  Arabian  desert,  was  a 
symbolic  model  of  the  invisible  economy  of  spirits.  In 
framing  it,  Moses  was  commanded  to  keep  in  mind  every 
particular  of  the  pattern  (model]  "  shewed  him  in  the 
Mount ;"  and  it  is  not  improbable  that  a  careful  and  erudite 
consideration  of  the  Mosaic  Liturgical  Institute  might  give 
some  distinctness  to  our  conceptions  of  that  state — the  state 
into  which  the  few  brief  days  of  mortal  life  are  to  bring 
every  "  true  worshipper."  It  is  very  easy  to  discern  in  the 
Tabernacle  service  first,  a  proximate  or  external  and 
secular  intention,  which  reached  its  end  in  its  immediate 
influence  upon  the  people.  But  besides  this,  and  compati- 
bly therewith  (as  all  expositors  but  the  most  sceptical 
admit)  the  same  worship  held  forth,  from  age  to  age,  a 
mute  prophecy  of  "  good  things  to  come  ;"  that  is  to  say, 
of  the  mediatorial  scheme,  afterwards  to  be  brought  into 
effect,  and  made  known.  Yet  a  third  intention  (as  we 
suppose)  ran  through  every  article  of  the  "  worldly  sanc- 
tuary"— adumbrating  the  unearthly  and  spiritual  system. 
Thus  in  the  farthest  recess  of  that  Sacred  Pavilion  of  the 
God  and  King  of  Israel,  was  displayed  the  visible  splend- 
our of  the  Divine  Presence  : — high  above  it,  without,  and 
in  view  of  all,  towered  tire  cloudy  column,  alternately  dark 
and  resplendent.  Before  the  Shechinah  crouched  the 
Cherubic  symbols  of  the  incessant  adoration  of  the 
celestial  orders.  The  tokens  of  the  mediatorial  covenant 
— the  insignia  of  the  spiritual  kingdom,  rested  at  the 
foot  of  the  throne.  To  this  inner  chamber  the  Mediator 


312  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

alone  had  access ;  and  there,  by  his  intercession,  main- 
tained propitious  intercourse  between  the  Divine  Majesty 
and  the  remoter  worshippers.  Without  the  veil  were  seen 
the  seven  lamps — the  cheering  radiance  of  Spiritual  Illum- 
ination ;  and  thence  also  went  up  the  perpetual  incense 
of  prayer.  Far  spread  around  this  "  House  not  made 
with  hands" — not  raised  by  labour,  or  of  solid  materials, 
were  ranged  the  assembled  thousands  of  Israel,  in  devout 
expectation,  while  they  took  part  in  the  loud  and  respon- 
sive anthem  of  praise.  "  Thither  the  tribes  went  up — 
every  one  of  them  appeared  before  God  in  Zion." 

To  this  invisible  Tabernacle,  and  to  this  perpetual 
liturgy,  and  to  this  expectation,  St.  Paul,  as  we  believe, 
made  allusion  when,  before  Agrippa,  he  spoke  of  the 
'*  twelve-tribe  body  (the  complement  of  true  Israelites)  as 
intently  and  incessantly  worshipping  God  in  hope  of  a 
happy  resurrection,  promised  to  the  Fathers"* — a  promise 
never  made,  or  never  officially  made  to  them  on  earth  : 
(it  was  reserved  for  the  Messiah  to  promulgate  authorita- 
tively, in  this  world,  the  doctrine  of  the  life  to  come  :) — 
but  conveyed  to  them,  on  their  entrance  upon  the  world 
of  souls ;  and  there  they,  "  not  having  yet  received  the 
promise,"  but  waiting  through  the  destined  lapse  of  ages, 
"  keep  their  Sabbath,"  until  He  "  whose  memorial  is  with 
them,"  shall  arise  suddenly  from  his  Throne  within  the 
veil,  and  come  forth  to  accomplish  the  <c  redemption  of  the 
body." 


*  "  And  now  I  stand  accused  on  account  of  a  hope  in  the  promise 
given  by  God  to  the  fathers : — even  the  very  same  which  is  the  ob- 
ject of  the  expectation  of  the  twelve  tribes  (our  Church)  now  em- 
ployed in  perpetual  and  intent  worship." — lv  «rm/a 


THE  STATE  OF  SOULS.  313 

The  worship  of  the  world  of  spirits  is  declared  to  be 
subjected  to  the  conditions  of  the  Mediatorial  scheme. — 
Christ  "lived,  and  died,  and  revived" — that  is  to  say, 
passed  in  due  course  over  all  the  ground  of  human  exis- 
tence, that  he  might,  as  an  experienced  Leader,  "  exer- 
cise domination  both  over  the  dead  and  the  living."  He 
too  is  emphatically  styled — "  Shepherd  and  Bishop  of 
souls;"  and  the  Lord  of  Paradise — "-holding  the  keys  of 
Hades ;"  and  having  overthrown  the  tyrant  of  the  invisi- 
ble world.  In  the  apocalyptic  visions  He  appears,  once 
and  again,  surrounded  by  the  great  company  of  expectant 
spirits,  to  whom  he  administers  consolations.  Neverthe- 
less, though  the  Divine  Majesty  is  in  that  world  to  be  ap- 
proached through  him  who  is  the  "  way  unto  the  Father," 
it  is  reasonable  to  believe  that  the  state  after  death  will  be 
one  of  great  advancement  in*  relation  to  the  sensible,  or 
rather  unambiguous  perception  of  the  Divine  Being. 
Let  it  be  granted  that  the  office  of  MEDIATOR  implies, 
necessarily,  so  long  as  it  endures,  a  reserve  and  conceal- 
ment on  the  part  of  God  : — so,  while  the  priesthood  of 
Aaron  came  between  Jehovah  and  the  people,  the  She- 
chinah  abode  within  the  veil ; — yet  do  the  worshippers 
enjoy  such  evidence  of  the  presence  of  God  as  sets  them 
free  entirely  from  the  discouragements  of  earthly  worship. 
The  ancient  Israel,  though  they  might  not  gaze  upon  the 
''  excellent  glory"  that  blazed  upon  the  mercy-seat  and 
the  cherubim,  beheld  at  all  times  the  pillar  of  cloud  and 
fire,  which  declared  that  the  King  was  with  his  people. 

And  it  may  well  be  believed  that  the  human  spirit,  dis- 
engaged from  animal  organization,  becomes  conscious  of 
God  in  a  manner  that  leaves  no  room  thenceforward  either 
for  testimony  in  proof  of  the  great  truth,  or  for  argument. 
If  these  two  theorems  could  be  proposed  to  us  antecedently 
28 


314  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

to  experience,  and  the  question  put — "  Whether  is  easier, 
for  an  intelligent  nature  to  become  immediately  conscious 
of  the  Supreme  Intelligence ;  or  for  it  to  be  consciously 
conjoined  with  matter,  and  its  properties  ?"  would  not  rea- 
son determine  in  favour  of  the  first  ?  And  yet,  if  this 
connexion  with  matter  is  actually  to  be  effected,  there 
seems  to  be  necessarily  implied  therein  a  loss,  for  the  time, 
of  the  immediate  perception  of  God.  That  is  to  say — in 
descending  to  a  close  alliance  with  matter,  so  as  to  be  af- 
fected by  its  properties,  and  to  affect  them  by  its  volitions, 
MIND  surrenders  its  native  perceptions  of  Him  who  is  a 
Spirit.  If  it  be  so,  then  of  course  a  physical  impossibility 
stands  in  the  way  of  our  truly  conceiving  of  that  immediate 
perception  of  God  which  our  present  alliance  with  matter 
intercepts.  A  spirit  not  yet  embodied  might  as  well  con- 
ceive of  weight,  hardness,  colour,  sound,  as  a  spirit  not 
yet  disembodied  imagine  the  sense  it  is  ere  long  to  have 
of  the  SPIRITUAL  BEING.  Yet  analogy  would  lead  us  to 
suppose  that,  if  the  conviction  we  now  possess  of  the  real- 
ity of  the  external  world  be  strong — so  strong  that  we 
never  seriously  entertain  a  doubt  of  it,  the  future  conscious- 
ness of  the  Divine  existence — the  knowledge  of  His  pres- 
ence, will  be  incomparably  more  vivid  and  more  potent. 
— Yes — that  this  consciousness  shall  encircle  and  absorb 
the  soul.  If  mind  could  so  intimately  converse  with  a 
subsistence  foreign  to  itself,  how  intimately  shall  it  con- 
verse with  that  subsistence  with  which  it  is  natively  ho- 
mogeneous ! — There  shall  we  "  know,  even  as  we  are 
known." 

And  yet,  though  we  must  always  fail  in  attempting  to 
conceive  of  the  future  mode  of  existence,  there  must  be- 
long to  the  present  state  certain  connective  rudiments  of 
the  next.  And  we  have  assurance  that  when  the  devout 


;  THE  STATE  OP  SOULS.  315 

affections — informed,  enlivened,  elevated,  by  the  Spirit  who 
{« helpeth  our  infirmities"  are  immediately  concerned  with 
their  proper  objects — the  Moral  Perfections  of  the  Divine 
Nature,  a  true  approximation  is  taking  place  to  that  inti- 
mate converse  to  which  the  dissolution  of  the  body  shall 
give  room.  Christians,  though  they  can  offer  no  external 
demonstration  of  the  fact,  or  such  as  they  might  spread 
before  others,  are  entitled  to  say — "  Truly  our  fellowship 
is  with  the  Father  and  the  Son  :" — and  this  genuine  per- 
suasion, more  vivid  than  any  argument,  bears  them 
through  the  sorrows  and  fears  of  the  present  state.  It  is 
by  this  consciousness  that  they  ''  endure  as  seeing  Him 
who  is  invisible." 

We  must  here  note,  in  passing,  the  essential  folly  of  the 
enthusiast,  who  contemning  the  true  and  purifying  dis- 
cernment of  God  in  the  brightness  of  his  moral  attributes, 
seeks  in  its  stead  certain  flashes  of  the  animal  spirits, 
which  he  deems  to  be  better  proof  of  the  presence  of  God 
than  "joy,  and  peace,  and  assurance  in  the  Spirit."  He 
turns  away  from  the  divine  converse  of  the  heart  with  its 
Regenerator ;  and  reverts,  as  a  child  or  novice,  to  the 
earthly  elements  of  turbulent  or  passionate  emotion. 
Give  him  but  a  bauble,  and  he  will  at  any  time  throw 
away  the  jewel.  He  would  be  more  delighted  could  you 
promise  him  a  dazzling  vision,  which  should  have  nothing 
in  it  but  a  blaze,  than  with  that  glory  which  shineth  into 
the  hearts  of  the  children  of  God,  admitting  them  to 
behold  the  true  image  of  God,  in  the  person  of  his  Son. 
And  if  you  call  in  question  the  genuineness  of  this,  his  bad 
preference,  he  says — "  You  deny  all  that  is  divine  and 
peculiar  in  the  Gospel,  and  oppugn  the  truth  that  Christ 
manifests  himself  to  his  people  as  he  does  not  to  the 
world," 


316  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

The  ordinary  process  of  knowledge,  or  that  natural 
order  whereby,  in  the  present  state  (revelation  apart)  we 
attain  any  conception  of  God,  is  an  ascent  from  the 
natural  to  the  moral  attributes.  In  following  certain 
abstract  notions  we  infer  his  Eternity,  and  Infinitude  ; — 
and  then  we  read  the  displays  of  his  power,  and  wisdom, 
and  bounty  in  the  visible  world  ;  and  we  go  on  to  assign 
to  him — Holiness  and  Goodness.  This  method  regulates, 
in  great  measure,  all  our  theological  notions  and  religious 
sentiments.  We  dwell  much  upon  that  which  in  truth  is 
secondary,  or  mediate ;  and  see  only  at  a  distance  that 
which  is  primary  and  essential.  By  the  ladder  of  reason 
we  have  gone  up  to  behold  the  Most  High  ;  and  so  are  we 
apt  to  frequent  the  same  artificial  line  of  approach,  even 
when  we  draw  near  for  worship. 

The  Spirit  of  Grace  takes  us  by  another  path,  and 
shews  us  that  the  Moral  Perfections  are  the  end  and 
reason  of  the  Natural.  And  who  can  doubt  but  that,  when 
matter  and  its  dark  symbols  are  done  with — that  which  is 
principal  shall  seem  so  ?  In  bursting  from  the  confinement 
of  the  body,  the  spirit  shall  (with  amazement  perhaps)  in 
a  moment  reverse  the  order  of  its  old  conceptions  ;  and 
almost  cease  to  think  of  Omnipotence,  Eternity,  Infinitude, 
while  the  more  dominant  notions  of  Purity,  and  Blessed- 
ness, and  Love,  fill  the  soul.  This  revolution  must  (if  we 
might  so  say)  immensely  reduce  the  apparent  distance 
between  the  created  and  Uncreated  Mind  :  for  so  long  as 
the  first-named  class  of  notions  have  principal  possession 
of  our  thoughts,  the  impression  that  prevails  is  that  of  im- 
measurable disparity ;  and  of  course,  the  more  we  meditate 
on  these  themes,  the  more  is  such  an  impression  enhanced. 
But  though  the  disparity  between  God  and  his  intelligent 
creatures  is  as  absolute  in  the  attributes  of  Goodness  or 


holiness,  as  in  those  of  power  and  wisdom,  there  belongs 
to  the  former  a  homogeneity  which  affords  ground  of 
communion  between  God  and  man.  The  conversion  of 
the  heart  to  God  is  a  bringing  God  nearer  to  us  ;  for  this 
reason,  that  we  thenceforward  think  of  Him  more  in  His 
moral  than  His  natural  attributes.  We  approach  the 
throne  by  a  direct  path,  and  in  the  stead  of  the  mute  awe 
which  heretofore  had  held  us  far  from  the  Incomprehensi- 
ble Being,  we  admit  an  intimate  and  personal  affection, 
not  untruly  symbolized  by  the  relationship  of  children  to 
a  father. 

The  dissolution  of  the  body  must  consummate  this  same 
approximation,  if  it  has  already  had  its  commencement. 
Love,  casting  out  fear,  will  then  reach  its  climax  ;  and  all 
reclaimed  souls  shall  drink  of  the  "  river  of  pleasures  that 
makes  glad  the  city  of  God."  "  All  shall  live  unto  God." 

It  were  presumptuous  and  culpable  to  construct  theories 
concerning  that  which  is  unknown,  upon  the  ground 
merely  of  abstract  analogies :  nevertheless,  so  long  as  a 
due  modesty  is  observed  in  such  attempts,  and  especially 
while  the  dim  imitations  of  Scripture  are  kept  constantly 
in  sight,  mischief  will  -hardly  accrue  from  endeavouring  to 
follow  our  meditation  a  step  farther. 

What  then,  w7e  may  ask,  shall  be  the  rule  of  rank  or 
order  in  that  invisible  world  ?  What  the  law.  of  relative 
position  ?  Shall  an  arbitrary  or  an  accidental  location  be 
admitted;  or  shall  there  be  an  invariable  prevalence  of 
some  principle,  founded  upon  the  reason  of  things,  and  the 
qualities  of  the  subject  ?  The  latter,  does  it  not  seem  the 
preferable  supposition  ?  At  least  it  may  be  affirmed  that 
all  apparent  confusion  or  irregularity  results,  in  the  pres- 
ent state  (as  might  soon  be  proved)  from  the  interaction 
of  several  causes  upon  more  than  one  element.  On  the 

28* 


318  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

contrary,  absolute  uniformity  takes  place,  or  which  is  the 
same  thing— the  juxta- position  of  things  unlike  and 
unequal  is  excluded,  where  one  or  two  causes  operate 
upon  a  simple  and  single  substance.  Now  if  there  be 
truth  in  this  maxim,  (and  corroboratioas  might  be  drawn 
from  all  parts  of  nature,  and  from  all  the  sciences,)  then 
it  would  seem  more  than  barely  probable  that,  in  the  re- 
gion to  which  souls  are  consigned,  (those  denuded  rudi- 
ments of  life,)  each  spirit  shall  fall  into  its  rank,  as  if  in 
obedience  to  the  law  of  its  actual  affinity  with  the  Divine 
Nature.  Or  as  if  the  concentric  circles  of  worship  that 
embrace  the  Tabernacle  of  Glory  should  determine  the 
position  of  all  spirits,  according  to  the  rule  of  love  and 
purity.  How  many  those  circles  may  be,  or  how  vast  the 
space  they  enclose,  we  know  not.  Perhaps  the  disparity 
in  light  and  joy  between  the  inner  circles,  and  the  remo- 
test orbits,  may  be  immense.  These  matters  are  all 
beyond  surmise.  Meanwhile,  and  until  truth  and  know- 
ledge burst  upon  us,  we  may  each  revert  to  the  secrecy  of 
the  soul ;  and  each  may  ask  how  such  a  law  of  rank  as 
we  have  imagined,  would  affect  his  particular  case  ?  Or 
whether  the  habits  of  the  mind,  its  ordinary  and  charac- 
teristic emotions,  would  bring  it  near  to  the  Majesty  in  the 
•heavens,  or  remove  it  to  the  very  verge  of  the  sphere  of 
joy  and  hope — 

— Yes.  and  who  shall  not  put  to  himself  the  previous 
question,  momentous  as  it  is,  whether  the  soul  has  yet  at 
all  acquired  fitness  for  that  state,  which  has  no  alternative, 
but  to  join  in  the  perpetual  worship,  or  to  look  to  the 
Father  of  Spirits  as  a  Stranger,  and  to  the  Omnipotent  as 
an  Adversary  ? 


XXV. 

THE  THIRD  HEAVENS. 

"  In  thy  Presence  is  Fulness  of  Joy : — at  thy  Right  Hand  are 
Pleasurei  for  Evermore.- 

As  without  evangelical  principles  there  can  be  no  sound 
morality ;  so  without  the  aid  of  heavenly  meditation? 
morality,  even  if  it  be  staunch  and  consistent,  must  want 
greatness,  dignity,  purity ;  nor  can  recommend  itself  by 
those  shining  graces  that  ought  to  adorn  the  religion  of 
Christ.  Our  ordinary  conduct  is  determined  much  more 
by  the  general  tone  of  our  feelings,  than  by  the  direct  force 
of  precepts  and  prohibitions.  The  heart  is  in  a  perilous 
state  when  the  vulgar  solicitations  of  appetite,  interest,  or 
pride,  are  encountered  and  opposed  only  by  the  ultimate 
or  strongest  motives  that  may  be  applicable  to  the  occasion. 
Virtue  ought  to  be  defended  at  a  greater  distance  from  its 
centre  than  when  it  wrestles,  hand  to  hand,  with  its  oppo- 
nent vices. 

It  is  the  frequent  and  intimate  converse  of  the  heart 
with  things  heavenly,  that  must  impart  to  the  soul  higher 
tastes,  and  shed  upon  its  stern  principles  the  lustre  of  a 
pure  and  generous  elevation.  And  if  meditation  of  the 
future  and  invisible  worlds  be  liable  to  any  abuse,  or  may 
be  likely  to  degenerate  into  insipid  or  presumptous  con- 
ceits, it  is  only  when  the  first  principles  of  the  Gospel  are 
lost  sight  of.  The  contemplatist  goes  astray — when  he 
forgets  hinself,  and  his  Guide ;  that  is  to  say,  when  he 
muses  idly  of  heaven,  as  if  there  had  been  no  transgres- 
sion, and  were  no  Redemption.  And  the  difficulty  also, 
as  well  as  the  hazard  of  such  attempts  to  rise  above  the 


320  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

present  scene,  or  to  penetrate  the  invisible  world,  is  en- 
hanced, or  is  indeed  rendered  insuperable,  when  our 
actual  position  as  those  who  have  been  restored  is  not 
kept  in  mind  ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  is  obviated  while  -we 
look  to  Him  who,  as  PRECURSOR,  has  trodden  all  the  path 
of  existence,  even  from  the  low  starting-point  of  humanity, 
through  death  and  Hades,  to  the  upper  region  of  perpetual 
pleasure. 

Even  supposing  faculties  and  powers  to  be  the  same, 
far  more  may  be  achieved,  iri  any  line,  by  the  aid  of  a 
capital  invigorating  motive,  than  without  it :  of  this  every 
one  is  conscious  :  and  the  truism  is  signally  exemplified 
in  the  instance  of  the  Christian,  who,  in  proportion  to  his 
personal  assurance  of  salvation  finds  that  he  can  soar 
upwards,  or  bring  home  to  his  conceptions  matters  which 
once  seemed  too  high  to  be  approached.  Apart  from  the 
hope  of  the  Gospel,  who  is  there  that  ruminates  upon  the 
felicity  of  heaven  ?  Even  if  the  human  mind  were  better 
qualified  than  it  is  to  engage  in  meditations  of  this  sort, 
and  were  more  disposed  than  it  is  to  dwell  upon  such 
themes — the  labour  would  want  impulse,  and  would  be 
idle  and  fruitless  in  its  issue,  unless  connected  in  some 
distinct  and  satisfactory  manner,  with  a  personal  expecta- 
tion of  becoming  a  sharer  in  the  future  happiness.  Why 
do  not  men  at  large  think  of  heaven  ?  Why  do  not  poets 
make  immortal  joy  their  constant  theme  ?  Alas,  because 
neither  men  at  large,  nor  the  most  gifted  minds,  discern 
the  way  thither,  as  open  to  themselves  ! 

Reason  assures  us  that  the  Supreme  Being  is  (in  the 
phrase  of  Scripture) "  Blessed  for  evermore."  He  to  whom 
belongs  all  power,  wisdom,  and  goodness,  doubtless  exists 
in  the  unchangeable  fruition  of  absolute  felicity.  And 
reason  may  also,  on  the  most  probable  grounds  assume 


THE  THIRD  HEAVENS.  321 

that  the  Sovereign  Beneficence  sits  surrounded  by  myriads 
of  beings,  participating,  so  far  as  finite  minds  may  do  so 
in  that  felicity.  Or  to  use  the  language  of  the  Hebrew 
poet,  it  must  be  granted  as  a  natural  or  necessary  supposi- 
tion— "  That  in  the  presence  of  God  there  is  fulness  of  joy, 
and  at  his  right  hand  perpetual  pleasures." 

Be  it  so : — but  what  is  this  to  man  ?  If  in  contempla- 
tion we  ascend  at  any  time  to  the  high  orbit  of  light  and 
joy,  how  far  must  we  lower  the  wing  when  we  would  re- 
turn to  earth !  The  human  race  seems  to  stand  almost 
on  the  extreme  confines  of  happiness  ;  nor  is  there  to  be 
discerned  any  such  general  progression  in  the  species  to- 
ward a  higher  and  better  stage,  as  might  assure  us  that 
we  are  drawing  nearer  (however  slowly)  to  the  centre  of 
good.  The  bright  conjectures  of  reason  and  imagination 
can  only  trouble  us  the  more,  when  we  bring  them  into 
contrast  with  whatever  we  see  and  know  around  us. 
Nothing  relieves  this  gloom  until  HE  appears,  who,  laying 
aside  uncreated  glories,  "  was  made  flesh  and  dwelt  among 
us."  It  is  the  Christian  Mystery,  and  nothing  else,  that 
gives  substance  and  reason  to  the  meditation  of  things 
purer  and  better  than  earth. 

It  may  be  conjected  that  the  Royal  Poet  had  in  view 
the  entire  circle  of  the  universal  realm,  from  its  utmost 
verge  to  its  centre,  when  (as  in  the  person  of  Messiah) 
after  surveying  the  long  path  of  life,  he  looks  to  its  termi- 
nation on  high,  and  thus  concludes — "  in  thy  presence 
is  fulness  of  joy  ; — at  thy  right  hand  are  pleasures 
for  evermore."  The  language  is  tropical,  and  perhaps 
has  more  than  one  allusion.  But  the  most  obvious  of 
these  (if  indeed  there  be  more  than  one)  is  to  a  kingdom 
or  polity,  consisting  of  many  gradations  or  ranks,  spread 
over  an  extensive  surface,  and  in  the  metropolis  of  which 
are  held  the  incessant  festivities  of  .Regal  State.  The 


322  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

condition  of  oriental  monarchies  better  illustrates  the  figure 
than  any  thing  that  is  seen  in  modern  and  western  coun- 
tries. Let  us  look  then  to  the  widely-severed  ranks  of  an 
Asiatic  empire.  There  is  first  its  wretched  and  vilified 
class,  upon  which  the  superincumbent  structure  of  the 
social  system  presses  so  heavily  as  almost  to  crash  exis- 
tence ; — often  actually  to  crush  it ;  and  always  to  render 
life  undesirable.  The  urgent  wants  of  nature,  never  pro- 
vided for  beyond  the  present  moment — the  most  abhorrent 
sustenance,  furtively  snatched  from  the  dust ;  while  con- 
tempt, servitude,  and  pain,  stand  by  to  imbitter  the  insuffi- 
cient meal!  Shall  these  abjects — these  victims — these 
outcasts  know  any  thing  of  pleasure  ?  Yes,  even  these 
snatch  a  joy  ;  for  human  nature  does  not  readily  throw 
off  its  instinct  of  happiness.  But  pleasure  to  such  must 
be  intemperate  and  frantic  ;  because  hurried  and  stolen  : 
— the  hour  of  enjoyment  (if  enjoyment  it  should  be  called) 
is  as  murky  as  it  must  be — hemmed  in  before  and  behind 
by  necessities  and  woes.  Or  we  may  turn  aside  to  gaze 
upon  the  hovel  which  serves. as  the  last  retreat  of  wretch- 
edness, and  where  indolent  misery,  bred  by  Vice  upon 
Despair,  finds  a  home  :  to  such  (alas  that  in  fact  there  are 
such)  to  such  the  common  air  has  no  balm — light  of  day 
no  brightness — nature  no  boon.  Spring,  with  its  bright 
mornings  and  its  flowers,  and  summer  with  its  noons  of 
fervour,  and  fruits,  and  pastimes,  and  autumn  with  its 
golden  abundance  and  luxuries,  bring  no  smile,  no 
change  : — the  round  of  the  year  is  a  winter.  What  is 
that  word  Joy  to  such? — they  know  it  not  even  afar  off, 
by  sight  or  hearing :  or  if  ever  they  taste  a  reckless  bowl, 
it  is  one  in  which  death  has  shed  some  new  anguish  for 
to-morrow . 

To  these  unfortunates — the  helots  of  mankind^  more 


THE  THIRD  HEAVENS.  323 

or  less  numerous  in  every  community,  according  to  the 
viciousness  or  rectitude  of  its  principles  (absolutely  want- 
ing in  none)  succeeds  the  class  that,  as  a  broad  foundation, 
sustains  the  edifice  of  society.  But  of  this  higher  class 
all  that  can  well  be  said  is,  that  the  most  terrible  evils 
are  just  kept  at  bay  by  incessant  efforts :  Now  for  a 
moment,  perhaps,  the  Foe  is  driven  to  a  little  distance  ; 
and  a  breathing-time  is  secured,  Hope  alights  at  the 
threshold  in  her  hurried  course  to  bless  more  favoured 
homes.  Comfort  makes  a  longer  stay.  But  we  dare 
hardly  speak  of  happiness  as  belonging  to  this  stage  of 
life ;  for  life  is  still  a  warfare  that  has  no  truce. 

In  the  third  stage  of  society,  as  we  ascend,  man  is 
found  so  far  to  have  gained  advantage  upon  want,  as 
that  his  home  is  no  longer  its  residence.  Woe  and  fear 
do  indeed  visit  his  home ;  but  existence  is  not  the  prey 
of  either.  Enjoyment  is  seen  there,  and  courted  daily. 
Pleasure  and  comfort  are  entertained.  Ease  and  Indul- 
gence are  not  unknown  ;  arid  take  their  turn  with  serious 
cares. 

But  we  must  look  higher  for  the  climax  of  earthly 
good  ;  and  shall  find  it  when  we  visit  the  palaces  and  halls 
where  reside  beauty,  honour,  favour  ;  with  art,  splendour, 
revelry  ; — where  the  elastic  power  which  high  privilege 
draws  from  security  and  abundance  gives  grace  to  the 
human  form,  and  seems  to  animate  every  faculty.  In 
these  mansions  of  delight,  if  Sorrow  (treasonable  intruder) 
ever  sets  his  foot,  he  is  instantly  disguised  in  pomps  and 
drapery,  that  his  pallid  visage  and  shrivelled  form  may 
not  offend  the  eye — Even  Death  comes  to  palaces  in  an 
obsequious  livery  of  plumes,  and  velvet,  and  cloth  of  gold  ! 

In  truth,  PLEASURE  is  always  the  law  of  life,  wherev- 
•er  power  to  make  it  so  is  possessed :  and  though  this 


324  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

order  of  things  has  justly  become  an  object  of  reprobation 
to  the  moralist,  because  the  pravity  of  man  ordinarily 
brings  pride,  cruelty,  and  sensuality,  to  be  the  attendants 
upon  pleasure  ;  yet  may  there  be  read  beneath  this  very 
perversion,  great  as  it  is,  the  native  tendency  or  original 
purpose  of  our  conformation.  We  learn  to  fear  or  to 
frown  upon  pleasure  as  an  enemy,  and  to  entertain  joy 
with  suspicion  or  caution ;  and  we  deem  self-denial  a 
prime  part  of  wisdom.  But  this  happens  only  because 
the  world  (and  our  hearts  with  it)  has  gone  astray  from 
the  road  of  genuine  felicity.  It  is  not  as  if  man  was  not 
made  for  felicity  ;  but  he  was  made  for  another  sort  than 
he  now  actually  chooses.  The  lawless  or  frivolous  plea- 
sures of  mankind  are  only  an  ill  sense,  put  upon  the 
language  of  nature.  Let  but  the  joy  we  seek  be  of  celes- 
tial quality,  and  our  pleasures  such  as  ennoble  and  invigo- 
rate the  soul,  and  then  j.he  true  and  ultimate  purpose  of 
existence  is  attained.  Fulness  of  joy,  and  perpetuity  of 
pleasure,  were  assuredly  proposed  as  the  end  of  that  crea- 
tion of  which  absolute  Beneficence  is  the  author. 

Who  can  question  that  the  several  gradations  of  the 
intelligent  universe  rise  in  degrees  o/  enjoyment,  as  they 
rise  in  degrees  of  power  and  virtue  ; — that  at  each  ascent 
there  is  Jess  of  what  is  subservient,  and  more  of  what  is 
primary ; — less  toil  and  danger  ;  and  more  tranquillity 
and  joy? — And  thus  must  the  progression  advance,  even 
to  the  mount  of  God — the  Royal  abode  of  eternal  and 
unsullied  Blessedness. 

Or  an  allusion  of  a  different  kind  may  be  supposed 
to  have  been  contemplated  by  the  Hebrew  monarch. — 
When  he  said,  "In  thy  presence  is  fulness  of  joy,"  he 
might  be  tacitly  making  comparison  between  the  pure  and 
cheerful  worship  of  Jehovah,  perpetually  celebrated  on 


THE  THIRD  HEAVENS.  325 

Mount  Zion ;  and  the  worship — horrid  and  foul,  of  the 
surrounding  nations.     We  very  imperfectly  imagine  the 
force  of  such  a  contrast,  as  it  must  have  presented  itself  to 
an  Israelite  of  the  early  and  brighter  eras  of  Jewish  histo- 
ry.    In  modern  times  we  have  so  much  learned  to  look 
upon  idolatrous  worship  with  mere  contempt,  or  with 
contempt  and  loathing,  that  we  do  not  even  deign  to  in- 
stitute a  comparison  between  those  extremes  of  truth  and 
error,  in  matters  of  religion,  that  are  still  actually  to  be 
found  in  the  world.     The  doctrine  of  the  unity  of  God  is 
the  belief  now  of  all  civilized  nations.     Error  on  this  capi- 
tal point  is  the  badge  of  degradation,  of  servitude,  of  im- 
becility ]  and  the  word   polytheist  may  be  taken  as  con- 
vertible with  the  terms  barbarian,  or  slave.     But  it  was 
not  so  with  the  ancient  Israel :  and  the  feelings  of  that 
nation  of  true  worshippers  must  have  been  very  unlike  our 
own  on  this  point.     The  great  controversy  of  truth  was 
maintained,  single-handed,  by  the  pastoral  and  agricultural 
tribes  of  the  southern  Syria,  against  all  mankind  beside. 
It  was  the  Hebrew  family  (never,  if  a  very  few  )Tears  are 
excepted,  evenly  matched  with  the  surrounding  empires) 
against  Egypt  and  Philistia,  and  Sidon,  and  the  nations 
of  "  the  sea,"  and  the  Chaldeans,  and  the  Assyrians.     It 
was  a  people  simple  in  manners,  and  not  distinguished, 
either  in  art  or  science,  against  nations  conspicuous  in  all 
that  could  give  lustre  and  strength  to  empire.     Both  ab- 
stract and  mechanical  philosophy,  and  the  arts  of  luxury, 
and  great  experience  in  commerce,  and  much  wisdom  in 
government ;  together  with  the  glories  of  conquest,  contri- 
buted to  recommend  and  illustrate  the  gorgeous  and  seduc- 
tive idolatries  of  the  mighty  countries  by  which  the  clans 
of  Judah  and  Ephraim  and  Benjamin  were  hemmed  in. 
Truly  it  was  no  easy  task  assigned  to  the  race  of  Abra- 
29 


326  SATURDAY    EVENING. 

ham,  to  maintain,  uncorrupt,  the  worship  of  Jehovah, 
upon  the  narrow  territory  chartered  to  the  patriarchs — 
The  precipitous  heights  and  rugged  glens  of  Judea  stood 
amid  the  deserts  of  the  world  like  a  high-fenced   fortress, 
held  from  age  to  age  by  a  band  of  men,  loyal  to  their 
Sovereign ;    though  beleagured  by  innumerable  hosts  of 
his  foes.     And  the  feeling  too,  that  belonged  to  men  so  plac- 
ed alone  at  the  post  of  danger,  must  have  been  greatly  en- 
hanced and' kept  in  agitation  by  the  known  existence  of 
treachery  within  the  walls.     Never  was  there  a  moment 
when  it  might  be  said,  that  all  Israel  was  true  to  the  trust 
involved  in  its  theocracy.      The  splendid  and  licentious 
worship  of  the  neighbouring  nations,  with  the  dread  influ- 
ence of  their  superstitions  over  the  natural  fears  of  mankind, 
proved  but  too  powerful  a  seduction  to  the  Hebrew  tribes, 
even  in  the  best  times  ;  and  there  is  reason  to  believe  that, 
during  long  eras,  the  adherents  of  Jehovah  were  but  a 
minority — scorned  and  oppressed,  and  in  jeopardy  of  life. 
This  state  of  things  must  be  gathered  as  we  peruse  Jew- 
ish historians  and  prophets,  from  the  age  of  Joshua,  to  that 
of  Ezra. 

Nevertheless,  though  all  visible  recommendations  were 
possessed  by  those  gods  "  of  wood,  and  of  stone,  and  of 
gold" — the  Poet-king  of  Israel,  after  looking  to  the  south, 
the  north,  the  east,  could  confidently  revert  to  the  heights, 
of  Zion,  and  say  that  the  voice  of  joy  and  the  acclama- 
tions of  genuine  and  holy  pleasure,  were  heard  in  that 
"  Tabernacle  of  the  righteous  ;"  and  nowhere  else.  Who 
that  was  not  utterly  depraved  in  heart,  would  have  forsak- 
en the  modest  and  reverent  solemnities  of  Jerusalem — 
not  uncheered  by  song  and  music,  for  the  wailings  of  the 
Sidonian  worship — for  the  yells  of  the  Tyrian — for  the 
cruel  service  of  the  god  whose  ardent  brazen  arms  receiv- 


THE  THIRD  HEAVENS.  327 

ed  uupitied  infants  from  the  hands  of  ferocious  or  fren- 
zied parents  ?  or  who  would  choose,  instead  of  the  service 
of  Jehovah,  the  fanatic  revelries — tumultuous  and  obscene, 
that  so  often  ruffled  the  placid  bosom  of  the  Nile ;  or  the 
monstrous  pomps  of  the  religion  of  Babylon,  or  of  Ninevah, 
or  of  Damascus ;  where  the  glories  of  the  sky  (in  which 
the  eternal  power  and  supremacy  of  the  true  God  are 
manifested)  were  villified  by  alliance  with  the  most  hedi- 
ous  symbols  ;  and  where  the  despotism  of  the  priest  was 
— like  a  venom  shed  upon  the  edge  of  steel,  employed 
only  to  aggravate  the  despotism  of  the  sword  ? 

Could  any  one  dare  affirm  that  it  was  JOY  that  dwelt 
in  the  temples  of  the  demon-gods  of  Philistia,  Phoenicia, 
Syria,  Assyria,  Egypt  ?  or  who  would  not  have  blushed  to 
have  said  that  perpetual  PLEASURES  filled  the  courts  of 
Chemosh,  of  Ashtaroth,  of  Dagon,  of  Baal,  of  Mithra? 
What  did  the  grove  conceal  ?  Lust — Blood — Imposture- 
What  sounds  shook  the  Fane  ? — alternate  screams  of  an- 
guish, and  the  laughter  of  mad  votaries.  What  was  the 
Priest  ? — the  teacher  of  every  vice  of  which  his  god  \vas 
patron  and  examplar.  What  were  the  worshippers  ? — the 
victims  of  every  woe  which  Superstition  and  Sensuality) 
can  gender,  and  which  Cruelty  can  cherish. 

It  was  not  then  a  blind  national  prejudice,  it  was  not 
spiritual  arrogancy,  that  made  the  prophet,  poet,  and  king 
of  Israel  exult  in  the  distinction  of  his  people.  Rather  it 
was  a  righteous  scorn  which  made  him  exclaim,  when  he 
thought  of  the  errors  of  the  nations — "  their  drink-offer- 
ings of  blood  will  I  not  offer ;  neither  take  their  names 
into  my  lips."  He  turned  toward  the  hill  of  God — the 
habitation  of  Jehovah,  graced  then  perhaps  with  the  sol- 
emn joys  of  its  annual  feasts.  "  Thither  the  tribes  had  gone 
up,"  from  the  glens  of  the  vine  and  olive,  from  the  valleys, 


398  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

of  corn — of  milk,  and  honey — they  had  advanced  "  from 
rest  to  rest"  and  every  one — every  head  of  the  thousands 
of  Israel,  was  then  "  appearing  before  God  in  Zkm." 
The  harp  and  the  viol  were  heard  there  ;  and  the  tabret 
and  cymbal ; — "  stringed  instruments  and  organs  :n — the 
responsive  anthem  also,  which  taught  as  much  as  it  cheer- 
ed the  people.  And  in  sight  of  all,  the  smoke  of  the  pro- 
pitiatory sacrifice  ascended  direct  to  heaven — innocent 
sacrifice!  The  Priest  made  intercession  for  the  people 
"  within  the  veil ;"  but  that  veil  concealed  no  shame — no 
cruelty — no  fraud : — he  came  forth  charged  with  a  bles- 
sing, in  the  pregnant  terms  of  which  were  condensed  more 
of  Sacred  Science  than  all  the  rest  of  the  world  beside  pos- 
sessed. The  congregation  dispersed,  and  as  they  returned  to 
their  inheritances,  the  Joy  of  the  Lord  was  their  strength." 
Well  then  might  Askelon,  and  Gaza,  Tyre,  and  Sidon, 
Nineveh,  and  Babylon,  be  challenged  to  do  homage  to  the 
"  city  of  God" — "  to  walk  about  Zion — to  number  her  tow- 
ers, to  mark  her  bulwarks,  to  consider  her  palaces,"  and 
to  confess,  that  ''  the  Lord  that  made  the  heaven  and  the 
earth  was  in  the  midst  of  her."  And  such  homage  might 
indeed  have  been  at  length  secured,  had  the  Jewish  people 
preserved  their  allegiance  to  Jehovah,  and  "  kept  his  stat- 
utes," through  a  course  of  ages.  "  The  mountain  of  the 
house  of  the  Lord  should  have  been  established  on  the  top 
of  the  mountains  ;  and  all  nations  should  have  flowed  into 
it."  God  would  have  "  blessed  his  people,  and  all  the 
earth  should  have  been  his  glory."  A  pure  theology,  a 
pure  morality,  an  equable  polity,  a  righteous  administra- 
tion of  justice,  needed  only  to  be  sustained  entire  for  a 
lengthened  period,  and  the  eyes  of  mankind  would  have 
been  fixed  upon  such  a  centre  of  wisdom  and  felicity. 
Sages  would  ha v£  resorted  thither  from  all  lands,  and  have 


THE  THIRD  HEAVENS.  329 

carried  back,  in  greater  or  less  purity,  the  elements  of  piety, 
virtue,  and  liberty.  "  Jerusalem  should  have  been  a  praise 
in  all  the  earth."  We  may  believe  this,  as  well  on  the 
ground  of  natural  probability,  as  on  the  faith  of  Divine 
promises. 

If  it  be  true,  even  on  earth,  that  the  spot  where  God  is 
known  and  worshipped  is  the  residence  of  joy,  and  the 
home  of  pleasure,  how  emphatically  true  must  it  be  when 
we  come  to  speak  of  the  upper  world  !  Are  there  indeed 
regions  where  the  Creator  is  unknown,  or  where  his  will 
is  resisted  ? — amazing — terrible  truth  ! — over  such  re- 
gions darkness  and  horror  are  spread.  But  are  there 
worlds — or  is  there  a  continent  of  light,  where  His  pre- 
sence is  visibly  declared,  and  His  favour  always  enjoyed, 
and  His  will  constantly  obeyed? — there  abides  ';the  fulness 
of  joy."  The  distinct  idea  we  insist  on  is  this — That  as 
Religion  has  its  commencement  in  the  knowledge  of  what 
are  termed  the  Natural  attributes  of  God,  which  in  fact 
are  subservient  only  to  higher  perfections  ;  and  as  it  re- 
ceives its  next  considerable  enhancement  from  a  knowledge 
or  spiritual  perception  of  his  attributes  of  Holiness  and 
Goodness ;  so  shall  it  reach  its  consummation  in  an  im- 
mediate perception,  or  open  vision  of  His  unchanging  and 
unsullied  BLESSEDNESS.  This  absolute  felicity  of  God 
is  the  ultimate  point  of  theology  ; — and  the  eras  of  eternity 
shall  be  occupied  in  learning  all  that  it  comprises. 

An  important  difference  attaches  to  the  mode  in  which 
these  three  stages  of  knowledge  are  attained.  For  the 
first  is  acquired  chiefly  by  the  deductions  and  inferences 
of  reason.  The  second,  by  the  testimony  of  Scripture, 
along  with  that  inward  communication,  or  "  teaching  of 
the  Spirit,"  by  which  the  heart  is  quickened.  The  third 
must  wait  for  the  immediate  or  real  and  direct  knowledge 

29* 


330  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

of  its  object,  in  the  future  world.  It  may  be  added  that 
the  first  stage  of  this  divine  knowledge  peculiarly  belongs 
to  the  present  life.  The  second,  after  having  had  its 
commencement  on  earth,  reaches  its  highest  degree  (as 
we  presume)  in  the  region  of  separate  spirits.  The  third 
is  reserved  for  the  state  of  perfection,  when  the  ransomed 
of  the  Lord — ransomed  from  the  grave,  and  from  Hades, 
shall  "  be  presented  before  the  throne  of  his  glory,  with 
exceeding  joy ;"  and  shall  thenceforward  and  for  ever 
stand  in  his  presence. 

Our  meditations  may  safely  advance  a  step  or  two  on 
this  high  path  :  at  least  we  may  pursue  to  some  little  dis- 
tance the  conception  of  Avhat  it  must  be  to  have  immediate, 
sensible,  and  perpetual  consciousness  of  the  Blessedness  of 
the  Infinite  Being.  And  we  must  first  revert  to  the  con- 
stitution of  our  own  nature,  in  which  nothing  is  more 
remarkable  than  the  conflict  that  arises  from  the  disposi- 
tion to  entertain  ideas  that  far  surpass  our  faculty  of  em- 
bracing or  comprehending  them.  The  finite  and  the 
infinite  struggle  together  within  us.  This  conflict,  rightly 
interpreted,  must  be  deemed  a  true  indication  of  our  destiny 
to  endless  life.  And  although  by  men  much  encumbered 
with  the  appetites  and  interests  of  the  passing  moment, 
little  or  nothing  of  the  sort  may  be  felt,  it  is  otherwise  in 
minds  of  superior  and  more  ingenuous  order ;  and  the 
most  vigorous  and  elevated  spirits  are  those  that  feel,  with 
the  most  intensity — what  it  is  hard  to  express — the  strug- 
gles of  that  desire  which  would  embrace  infinite  perfec- 
tions, and  yet  seems  to  fail  the  more  it  succeeds — to  be 
baffled  the  more  it  actually  advances. 

Now  it  is  not  very  difficult  to  distinguish  the  specific 
emotions  that  attend  our  contemplations,  as  we  ascend  the 
scale  of  the  Divine  attributes.  For  example  ;  Indepen- 


THE  THIRD  HEAVENS.  331 

dent  and  Eternal  existence — the  Omnipresence — the  Om- 
niscience— the  Omnipotence,  and  the  absolute  wisdom  of 
God,  which  are  proper  objects  of  the  intellectual  faculty,  are 
entertained  not  without  a  feeling  in  part  painful — in  part 
pleasurable  : — or  at  least  pleasurable  just  so  far  as  associa- 
tions have  been  formed  between  such  ideas  and  the  devout 
affections.  But  inasmuch  as  Reason  is  a  subservient 
power,  and  must  look  to  some  definite  result  as  the  reward 
of  its  toil,  the  endeavour  to  become  conversant  with  infini- 
ty must  (by  the  nature  of  the  case)  always  fall  short  of 
satisfaction  ;  — must  want  the  sense  of  achievement.  The 
impulse  to  advance  is  strong ;  and  so  is  the  discourage- 
ment in  proceeding  ;  and  the  balance  of  emotion  is  perhaps 
painful.  We  might  conclude  this  to  be  the  fact  from  the 
circumstance,  that  the  devout  mind,  in  any  early  stage  of 
its  effort  to  meditate  upon  the  Natural  attributes  of  Deity, 
turns  aside  to  contemplate  the  Moral. 

In  this  region,  of  merely  intellectual  notions  we  are  at 
once  encountered  by  the  imparity  of  the  object,  and  the 
faculty  employed  upon  it.  But  in  ascending  to  contem- 
plate the  rectitude,  the  purity,  and  the  benevolence  of  the 
Divine  Nature,  a  real  affinity  between  the  object  and  the 
faculty — that  is  to  say  the  moral  sense  (spiritually  inform- 
ed) bears  up  the  mind,  and  overcomes  the  uneasy  sensa- 
tions just  before  mentioned.  In  its  emotions  of  love, 
complacency,  and  affectionate  adoration,  the  soul  ceases  to 
dwell  upon  the  idea  of  infinite  and  incomprehensible  per- 
fections ;  and  seems  to  be  blending  its  own  nature  with 
the  divine,  rather  than  to  be  contrasting  (as  in  the  former 
case)  the  one  with  the  other.  And  here  it  should  distinctly 
be  noted  that,  as  it  is  the  affections  more  than  the  reason- 
ing faculty  that  are  in  activity,  and  as  the  affections  are 
ultimate  powers  in  the  human  mind,  and  do  not  look  on 


332  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

to  any  result  beyond  themselves,  they  are  not  liable,  like 
reason,  to  a  painful  evulsion  from  the  sense  of  not  having 
reached  the  utmost  limit  possible.  The  soul  reposes,  and 
is  satisfied,  so  far  as  it  goes,  on  the  path  of  love  ; — but 
never  is  so  satisfied — can  never  so  repose  on  the  path  of 
reason,  until  the  goal  be  attained. 

Pleasure,  chastened  by  awe,  attends  this  perception  of 
the  "  beauties  of  Holiness."  The  mind  agreeably  alter- 
nates between  its  rational  and  moral  notions  ; — reverting 
to  the  former  that  it  may  again,  and  with  new  force,  admit 
the  latter.  The  Eternal,  the  Omnipotent,  the  "  Only 
Wise,"  is  thought  of  for  a  moment  in  His  incomprehensible 
perfections,  in  order  that  an  augmentation  may  be  gained 
to  the  sentiments  wherewith  His  benignity  and  purity  are 
contemplated. 

These  emotions,  as  we  have  already  surmised,  reach 
their  acme  in  the  separate  state,  which  is  specifically 
assigned  to  them,  and  while  all  other  powers  and  desires 
are  suspended.  In  that  state  (as  we  conjecture)  the 
Divine  Presence  still  remains  veiled,  and  the  Divine 
favour  continues  to  be  dispensed  through  the  medium  of 
the  Mediator,  whose  office  endures  until  the  work  of  re- 
demption is  completed.  May  it  then  be  thought  that, 
when  this  intervention  comes  to  an  end,  and  admittance 
is  allowed  to  the  open  Presence  of  the  King  eternal,  that 
which  is  ultimate  in  the  Divine  Nature,  namely — un- 
changeable and  absolute  felicity,  shall  become  the  prime 
object  of  the  perceptions  of  all  worshippers,  and  the  one 
source  or  reason  of  all  enjoyment?  And  then,  both  the 
natural  and  the  moral  perfections  of  God  shall  be,  to  His 
absolute  Blessedness;,  what,  at  present,  the  natural  are  to 
the  moral ; — that  is  to  say,  they  shall  serve  as  the  grounds 
of  a  higher  sense  of  that  Blessedness.  In  the  manifested 
presence  of  the  Sovereign  Happiness  it  can  no  more  be 


THE  THIRD  HEAVENS.  333 

conceived  of  as  possible,  that  created  and  dependent  spirits 
should  make  to  themselves,  or  find  room  to  admit,  any 
happiness  which  does  not  emanate  from  that  of  the 
Supreme  Being,  than  it  is  possible,  in  the  very  face  of  the 
summer's  sun,  to  kindle  a  blaze  which  can  repel  or  sur- 
pass that  of  noon.  The  very  structure  of  the  Mind 
implies  that  the  greatest  and  most  vivid  cause  of  excitement 
should  prevail  over  the  lesser. 

And  though  a  natural  prejudice  (easily  understood)  may 
reject  such  an  idea,  those  who  will  attentively  follow7  up 
the  rudiments  of  our  religious  knowledge,  whether  abstract 
or  documentary,  and  will  calmly  compare  such  notions 
with  the  necessary  conditions  of  a  finite  being,  must 
discern  a  glimmering  at  least  of  the  great  truth — That  the 
Supreme  Being — self-existent,  and  altogether  sufficient  in 
Himself,  possesses  a  felicity  that  is  immensely  remote  from 
any  relation  of  mutuality  with  that  of  his  creatures — 
even  the  most  exalted  of  them.  And  thence  it  will  follow, 
not  very  indistinctly,  that  there  will  be  presented  to  the 
observation  of  intelligent  beings  (more  or  less  openly)  cer- 
tain movements  or  evolutions  (language  is  utterly  at  fault) 
which  have  their  issue  only  in  that  sovereign,  independent 
Felicity,  and  in  which  movements  the  creature  has  no 
part,  and  can  be  no  fellow.  It  is  hard  to  conceive  of  the 
Infinite  Excellence  at  all,  otherwise  than  as  comprising 
interactive  causes  which  must  have  products  possessing 
absolutely  no  affinity  with  any  thing  exterior  to  itself,  and 
which  can  be  but  imperfectly  surmised  or  discerned  by 
any  created  intelligence.  Nay,  it  ought  to  be  assumed 
that  the  shoreless  ocean  of  the  Divine  Felicity  contains 
elements,  and  combinations  of  those  elements,  which 
utterly  surpass  all  finite  knowledge.  And  then  the  fact  of 
such  unsearchable  depths  being  admitted,  as  a  necessary 


334  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

deduction  of  reason,  there  will  be  open  to  created  minds 
the  peculiar  emotion  naturally  springing  up  when,  with 
the  boundless  radiance  of  Infinite  Blessedness  full  in  view, 
it  is  recollected  that  a  vast  unknown  remains  beyond  and 
within  that  visible  glory  ! — "Who  by  searching  can  find 
out  God  : — who  can  find  out  the  Almighty  to  perfection  ?" 

In  these  principles  there  is  comprehended  a  provision, 
never  to  be  exhausted,  for  supplying  new  enjoyments  to 
pure  and  intelligent  beings.  It  is  evident  that  to  active 
natures,  endowed  with  the  power  and  desire  of  advance- 
ment, the  eras  of  protracted  duration  must  impart  contin- 
ually fresh  accessions  of  capacity  for  discerning  the 
perfections  of  the  Infinite  God.  That  which  might  not 
at  all  be  known  or  conceived  of  in  an  early  stage,  may  be 
comprehended  in  a  stage  more  advanced  ;  and  thus  the 
Boundless  Felicity  which  none  shall  ever  fathom,  will  be 
to  all — and  for  ever,  a  spring  of  perpetual  pleasures. 

Themes  of  this  order,  which  here  have  been  but  hastily 
and  rudely  touched  upon,  may  properly  employ  the  medi- 
tative faculty,  without  soon  being  exhausted.  And  it  is 
much  to  be  observed  that,  while  the  mind  rests  upon  them, 
and  rests  upon  them  too  until  all  emotions  and  faculties 
have  duly  fallen  into  the  general  movement,  so  as  to  con- 
tribute their  aid — and  especially  while  the  Divine  Spirit 
is  cherishing  the  flame  of  pious  hope,  more  may  be  attain- 
ed or  conceived  of  than  language  is  fitted  to  convey.  On 
this  ground  it  is  not  true  that  a  man  may  express  what- 
ever is  really  present  to  his  mind  ;  for  the  medium  of 
communication  was  framed  for  no  purpose  so  high ;  and 
it  absolutely  wants,  as  well  the  single  terms,  as  the  forms 
of  connexion,  necessary  to  effect  it.  It  is  a  poor  thing  to 
advance,  in  our  religious  contemplations,  only  as  far  as  to 
the  boundary  of  that  circle  over  which  human  language 


THE  THIRD  HEAVENS.  33o 

spreads  i'self.  And  how  poor  a  thing  not  even  to  extend 
the  empire  of  the  mind  so  far  as  to  that  boundary  ;  but  to 
be  continually  repeating  wonted  phrases,  of  which  the  in- 
dolent spirit  has  never  yet  taken  intelligent  possession  ! 

It  is  also  to  be  noted  that  the  just  reprehension,  or  even 
contempt,  which  may  be  bestowed  upon  an  idle  endeavour 
to  penetrate  by  IMAGINATION  the  invisible  worlds,  and  to 
describe,  in  oriental  style,  the  things  which  "  eye  hath  not 
seen,  nor  the  heart  of  man  conceived,"  is  not  at  all  due  to 
the  proper  effort  of  the  mind  when,  by  revolving  the  rudi- 
ments of  its  owii  nature,  and  by  pursuing  the  indications 
of  its  highest  affections,  and  by  collating  these  with  the 
evidence  of  Scripture,  it  labours  to  anticipate,  in  idea,  its 
approaching  destiny.  If  any  are  found  blaming  a  labour 
of  this  sort,  it  will  be — the  inert,  the  frivolous,  or  the 
sensual. 

Truly  we  are  not  thinking  to  depict  the  scenes  and 
personages  of  the  celestial  world  : — we  are  not  assigning 
names,  fortunes,  qualities,  adventures,  to  seraphim  and 
cherubim  ; — are  not  bringing  together  the  bright  colours, 
and  perfect  forms,  and  the  odours,  and  gaiety,  of  the 
heavenly  plains  ;  or  speaking  of  groves,  gardens,  foun- 
tains, flowers,  fruits,  melodies,  temples,  palaces,  triumphs. 
All  this  we  leave.  How  unlike  to  any  such  pictures  may 
probably  be  the  actual  scene,  where  the  nations  of  heaven 
— immortal — ancient — wise — experienced — fraught  with 
energy,  courage,  sacred  ambition,  loyalty  to  God,  and  good- 
will to  all  creatures,  are  performing  their  parts,  or  hasten- 
ing: on  their  endless  courses  ! 

O 

|*  It  is  quite  another  thing,  with  modesty  and  with  painful 
.efforts,  and  in  devout  hope  of  heavenly  guidance,  to  work 
problems  by  the  aid  of  those  materials  of  cogitation  which 
reason  and  nature  and  Revelation  afford. 


XXVI, 
THE  PRECURSOR. 

"  Thou  wilt  Skew  me  the  Path  qf  Lj/e." 

DIVINELY  guided,  and  yet  very  dimly,  or  perhaps  not 
at  all  discerning  the  purport  of  his  prophetic  ode,  the  royal 
poet  uttered,  as  in  the  person  of  "  him  who  was  to  come," 
the  confidence  and  hope  of  Messiah,  in  prospect  of  the 
arduous  course  he  was  to  pass  through.  His  God  was  to 
"  shew  him  the  path  of  life  ;" — that  is  to  say,  was  to  con- 
duct him,  as  Leader  of  Salvation,  over  all  the  road,  and 
through  all  the  stages  of  human  existence  ;  even  from  the 
virgin's  womb,  to  the  right  hand  of  Pow^r  in  the  heavens. 
Mortal  life  with  its  humiliations,  and  pains,  and  fears  ; — 
and  death,  with  its  anguish  and  dismay  ; — and  Hades 
too.  But  Hades  could  not  detain  him  who  was  to  "  lead 
its  captivity  captive  ;  and  ere  "  his  flesh  should  see  cor- 
ruption," he  was  to  burst  the  bars  of  the  prison,  and  return 
to  the  light  of  day ;  and  thence  ascending,  should  enter 
upon  the  fulness  of  joy. 

The  Mediator  is  the  PRECURSOR  of  his  people,  on  thia 
"  Path  of  Life,"  and  an  experienced  Guide  also,  in  its 
dangers.  In  all  things  "  he  has  the  precedency  ;"  and 
advances  in  front  of  the  host  he  is  leading  to  the  skies. 
By  the  right,  both  of  conquest  and  experience,  He  exer- 
cises "  domination  over  the  dead  and  the  living."  There 
is  no  hazard  of  error  in  thus  assigning  its  specific  sense  to 
the  prophetic  words  of  David  ;  for  the  chief  of  the  apostles, 
under  the  fresh  influence  of  the  Divine  Spirit,  applies  and 
expounds  them  as  fulfilled  in  none  but  Jesus — the  Christ,  j 


THE  PRECURSOR.  337 

Leaving  olher  implied  principles  unnoticed,  we  may, 
for  a  moment,  meditate  upon  the  relation  of  this  Precur- 
sive  part  of  the  Mediator's  work  to  the  immortality  and 
celestial  felicity  of  his  followers. 

We  have  spoken  of  the  "  prepetual  pleasures"  that  sur- 
round the  throne  of  God.  But  what  has  man  to  do  wi.th 
themes  so  high,  and  so  little  in  harmony  with  his  actual 
condition  ?  Look  at  him  in  the  guise  he  wears  !  Does 
he  seem  like  an  aspirant  to  immortality  and  glory  ?  Is 
such  a  one  as  he  indeed  on  his  way  to  the  Royal  abode  of 
universal  dominion? — Is  not  his  eye  anxiously  fixed  upon 
the  low  path  he  is  treading  ?  is  not  his  brow  knit  with 
care,  and  soiled  with  degrading  labour  ?  is  he  not  in  heart 
ignoble  ?  is  he  not  emaciate  ?  are  not  his  garments  worn 
— his  feet  lacerated — his  provision  corrupted  ?  Yes,  and 
has  not  his  spirit  bowed  to  the  humiliations  of  his  lot ; 
so  that  he  even  consents  to  the  scorn  that  belongs  to  it? — 
All  this  is  true,  and  more  might  be  said  ;  nevertheless 
man  must  not  surrender  his  pretension  to  the  heavens. 
He  has  a  special  reason  for  his  hope — a  reason  stronger 
than  all  contradictions. 

That  hope  of  immortality  -which  the  Christian  enter- 
tains is  neither  a  mere  inference  of  reason  ;  nor  a  bare 
verbal  promise,  sent  from  heaven  to  earth,  that  might  be 
interpreted  in  various  extents  of  meaning.  But  it  is  a 
deduction  from  an  actual  experiment,  all  the  parts  of 
which  have  been  set  out  before  us ;  and  in  examining 
them  we  attain  the  confidence  and  the  familiarity  which 
distinguish  real  knowledge  from  theory  or  imagination. 
If  a  future  life  simply  had  been  announced,  many  analo- 
gies of  the  physical  world,  as  well  as  our  own  conscious- 
ness of  infirmity  and  degradation,  might  have  led  us  to 
imagine  that  our  next  stage  of  existence  was  to  raise 

30 


333  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

human  nature  a  degree  or  two  on  the  scale  of  power  and 
of  well-being ;  and  was  at  length  to  be  succeeded  by 
another  small  accession  to  its  faculties  of  enjoyment,  or  to 
its  virtue  ;  and  so  on  through  an  extended  period.  The 
influence  of  any  such  supposition  must  have  been  to  re- 
move to  a  faint  distance  those  bright  objects,  and  that 
divine  glory,  which  •  the  Christian  scheme  brings  into 
the  nearest  apposition  to  our  hearts. 

If  we  were  to  speak  in  this  connexion  of  the  physiolo- 
gy of  human  existence — of  what  might  be  called  the 
natural  history  of  the  race,  then  we  find  it  exhibited,  or 
modelled,  in  the  narrative  of  redemption.  The  Saviour 
of  the  world  did  not  rescue  man  by  making  a  visit,  in 
royal  state,  to  the  scene  of  ruin  ;  but  by  himself  going 
through  the  several  stages  of  their  destined  course  ;  and 
while  we  contemplate  his  progress,  we  see,  and  have  it 
ostensibly  proved  to  us,  that  things  far  greater  and  higher 
than  reason  could  at  all  have  supposed,  are  actually 
brought  within  the  range  of  hope  ;  are  "  standing  at  the 
very  door."  There  is  but  a  "  step  between  man  and 
death."  Nay  ;  there  is  but  a  step  between  him  and  the 
very  highest  promotion.  ONE  who  was  "  made  like  unto 
ourselves  in  all  points,"  has  in  our  view  trodden  the  ground 
of  earth,  and  has  passed  thence  immediately  and  not 
through  an  immeasurable  circuit,  or  by  countless  progres- 
sions— "  into  the  heavens."  From  this  cur  low  abode, 
He,  having  loosed  the  bonds  of  death,  and  broken  the  bars 
of  the  grave,  burst  at  once  into  the  presence-chamber  of 
the  Majesty  on  high  ; — nor  did  he  fear  there  to  present 
himself  in  the  form  of  humanity. 

The  assumption  of  the  human  by  the  Divine  Nature, 
to  say  nothing  now  of  its  primary  consequences,  supersedes 
a  multitude  of  questions  and  speculations  that  might 
have  been  entertained  relative  to  the  station  which  man 


THE  PRECURSOR.  339 

may  natively  be  fitted  to  occupy.  And  it  should  not  es- 
cape notice  that  human  salvation  is,  \vith  great  uniformity 
of  terms,  spoken  of  by  the  inspired  writers  as  a  restora- 
tion, a  recovery ; — it  is  the  bringing  him  back  to  the 
dignity  he  had  lost.  No  expressions  are  employed  which 
might  seem  to  indicate  that  an  alteration,  or  extension  of 
the  original  plan  of  the  human  system  had  been  admitted  ; 
or  as  if  an  arbitrary  derangement  of  the  ranks  and  orders 
of  the  intelligent  system  had  been  made,  in  consequence 
of  which  the  family  of  Adam  are  to  be  promoted  over  the 
heads  of  others  to  a  place  higher  than  their  qualities 
should  fairly  warrant. 

Philosophical  theories  of  human  nature  are  in  fault,  on 
the  side  both  of  presumption  and  of  frigid  diffidence. 
Far  too  much  is  assumed"  in  behalf  of  man  in  all  that 
belongs  to  his  actual  condition,  and  his  unassisted  powers; 
and  far  too  little  in  what  relates  to  his  original  distination 
— to  the  importance  of  his  present  behaviour,  and  to  his 
future  lot.  But  the  Scripture,  in  their  history  of  man 
set  out  from  a  point  more  elevated  ; — follow  him  through 
a  course  that  descends  to  the  lowest  depths  ;  and  again 
present  him  as  emerging,  and  as  setting  out  on  an  upward 
path  that  leads  to  an  immeasurable  height.  And  the  special 
circumstance  of  this  history  is  that  the  several  stages  of  it 
are  all  displayed -in  the  narrative  of  Redemption.  Is  it 
asked,  on  any  side,  "  what  do  you  mean — what  do  we 
pretend  to,  when  we  speak,  at  large,  of  glory,  honour, 
immortality,  or  of  a  crown  of  life,  or  of  being  constituted 
kings  and  priests  unto  God  ; — or  of  setting  on  thrones  to 
exercise  powers  of  judgment,  even  over  superior  natures?" 
— we  reply  at  once,  that  we  pretend  to  whatever  is  involv- 
ed in  the  union  of  the  members  with  the  Head — that 
Head  being  Divine ; — and  we  expect  whatever  may  fairly 


SATURDAY  EVENING. 

be  presumed  when  it  is  said,  of  all  believers,  that  they 
shall  be  ll  like  Him,  and  near  Him  (as  his  kinsman)  who 
is  the  "  Brightness  of  the  Father's  glory,  and  the  express 
Image  of  his  person." 

The  Representative  of  mankind,  and  their  Deliverer,  in 
anticipation  of  the  part  assigned  him,  appeals  to  the 
Father,  and  says — "  Thou  wilt  shew  me  the  path  of  life." 
And  when  afterwards  he  stood  in  the  midst  of  that  path  ; 
or  nearly  at  the  point  of  its  lowest  depression,  he  still 
keeps  in  view  his  character  of  LEADER  of  his  people,  and 
looking  to  heaven  exclaims  (is  it  prayer,  or  is  it  omnipotent 
volition  ?)  "  Father,  I  will  that  those  whom  thou  hast 
given  me  should  be  with  rne,  to  behold  my  glory  ; — and 
that  where  I  am,  they  should  be  also."  At  the  same  time 
as  if  to  assure  the  courage  of  his  followers  in  the  moment 
of  fear,  he  says — "  Whither  1  go  ye  know,  and  the  way 
ye  know."  And  now  that  he  is  ascended  on  high,  the 
invitation  he  sends  forth  to  all  who  seek  immortality  is — 
"  Follow  me  !"  Jesus,  Head  of  the  Church,  is  "  gone  to 
appear  in  the  presence  of  God  for  us  ;*'  not  merely  as 
Mediator,  or  High  Priest ;  but  as  PRECURSOR  : — and  be- 
cause he  has  actually  attained  that  summit  of  glory  and 
felicity,  his  people  shall  reach  it  also. 

Thus  we  have  the  reason  of  our  hope  of  future 
advancement  ,set  out  in  a  living  form,  in  the  course  or 
track  of  our  Representative,  from  earth  to  heaven.  And 
yet  there  remains  an  accommodation  of  the  same  expres- 
sion, open  to  every  believer.  For  after  the  primary  inten- 
tion of  the  prophetic  words  of  David  has  been  secured, 
we  may  assume  them,  not  improperly,  on  behalf  of  the 
Christian,  who,  with  solicitude  or  doubt,  looks  forward  to 
the  concealed  path  he  has  yet  to  tread,  and  addressing  the 
"Shepherd  and  Bishop  of  souls,"  exclaims — "  THOU  wilt 
shew  me  the  path  of  life  !" 


THE  PRECURSOR.  341 

The  capital  purposes  of  the  present  scene  of  things 
demand  that  even  the  Christian  should  be  left  to  approach 
the  very  verge  of  another  state  in  ignorance  of  what  it  is 
that  awaits  him  : — that  is  to  say,  of  its  circumstances, 
mode  of  existence,  transactions,  society.  He  is  assured  of 
the  fact  of  continued  consciousness  ;  and  the  spiritual 
rudiments  of  that  after-state  are  also  made  known  to 
him  : — but  nothing  more.  This  ignorance,  which  to  the 
irreligious  is  the  occasion  of  desperate  and  stupid  insensi- 
bility, iu  treading  upon  the  brink  of  the  invisible  world, 
gives  rise,  in  the  heart  of  the  Christian,  to  a  trembling  awe, 
and  a  dread  expectation.  His  firm  and  matured  belief  of 
immortality  quite  forbids  that  he  should,  as  others  do,  throw 
himself  reckless  from  the  shore  of  life.  But  the  same 
faith,  though  it  saves  him  from  dismay,  can  never  (or 
only  in  very  rare  instances)  entirely  exclude  the  trepidation 
so  natural  to  the  human  mind  on  all  signal  occasions ; 
and  most  of  all  when  nothing  less  than  the  dissolution 
of  the  fabric  of  life  is,  each  successive  moment,  expected. 

Now  this  blank  ignorance  of  the  world  into  which  he 
is  so  suddenly,  and  so  soon,  to  enter,  is  plainly  intended 
to  throw  the  Christian  ingenuouslv,  and  without  distrac- 
tion, upon  those  very  emotions  which  the  unseen  world 
is  to  call  into  exclusive  activity.  What  can  the  dying 
believer  do,  uninformed  as  he  is  of  the  way  he  is  to  tread 
— his  foot  advanced,  though  the  ground  on  which  it  is 
next  to  rest  is  unseen  -what  but  recur  to  the  rudiments 
of  his  hope? — What  but  look  to  the  PRECURSOR,  who  is 
also  the  Lord  of  that  unseen  world  ?  How  different  might 
be  his  sentiments  if,  in  approaching  the  gate  of  death,  or 
in  first  entering  its  shadows,  a  prospect  were  allowed  to 
the  mortal  eye  of  the  crowded  and  magnific  scene  which 
lies  immediately  beyond  that  gate  !  The  frailty  of  the 

31* 


342  SATURDAY   EVENING. 

mind,  shall  we  say  that  infantile*  misdirection  of  its 
curiosit)',  which  belongs  to  its  period  of  nonage,  would 
lead  it  to  prefer  the  less  to  the  greater — the  form  to  the 
substance.  In  a  word,  the  principal  and  the  essential 
emotion  so  signally  proper  to  the  great  crisis  of  sense  and 
faith,  would  give  way  to  secondary  feelings,  which  shall 
find  other  and  more  fit  occasions  for  their  exercise,  and 
space  enough  in  the  long  leisure  of  eternity. 

Provision  is  made  in  the  Scriptures  for  meeting  the 
peculiar  sentiment  which  the  Christian's  conjoined  faith 
in  the  unseen  world,  and  ignorance  of  its  conditions, 
engenders.  And,  as  matter  of  fact,  the  dying  expressions 
of  multitudes  of  the  faithful,  in  every  age,  have  exemplified 
the  fitness  of  this  provision  to  the  occasion.  If  a  solemn 
renewal  of  repentance  is  proper  to  the  hour  of  death — if 
an  explicit  and  fervent  challenge  of  the  Divine  mercy  is 
proper  toil,  these  acts  are  not  enough  to  impart  confidence 
and  joy,  or  even  always  a  settled  tranquillity.  The  pal- 
pitating heart  must  appropriate  the  personal  affection  of 
the  Redeemer  to  his  people.  THIS  APPROPRIATION  is 
the  secret  of  dying.  The  human  mind,  when  once 
thoroughly  occupied  by  a  benign  affection,  specially  fixed 
upon  its  object,  can  meet  any  danger,  can  brave  any 
dismay.  History  abounds  with  illustrations  of  this  fact ; 
— it  is  a  capital  law  of  our  nature.  Men,  nay  women, 
thus  animated,  have  forgotten  all  fear,  and  carried  them- 
selves through  fields  of  death  as  calmly  as  if  they  had  none 
but  an  ethereal  frame.  If  we  analyse  our  emotions  on 
any  occasions  of  this  sort,  we  shall  find  that  if  at  any 
time,  a  steady  courage  has  borne  us  with  force,  and  anim- 
ation, and  cheerfulness,  through  hours  of  imminent  peril, 
it  has  been  when  we  have  had  to  act  on  behalf  of  those 
most  dear  to  us  ;  or  when  the  welfare  of  such  has  depend- 


THE  PRECURSOR.  343 

ed  altogether  upon  our  conduct.  Even  the  martial  cour- 
age of  the  field  (if  it  be  more  than  animal  bravery)  is 
constituted  on  the  same  principle,  and  would  be  nothing 
if  stripped  of  its  affections. 

Those  who  would  blame  as  enthusiastic  or  presumptu- 
ous the  fervours  and  speciality  of  devout  affection,  such  as 
eminent  Christians  have  expressed  in  their  dying  moments, 
know  nothing  of  Christianity  beyond  the  bare  story  they 
read  in  the  Gospels ;  and  nothing  of  human  nature  (or 
of  human  nature  as  affected  by  religion)  beyond  what 
belongs  to  the  servile  sentiments  of  a  pelagian  faith  (better 
called  distrust.)  If  multitudes  of  those  who  receive  Chris- 
tian burial,  because  they  have  received  Christian  baptism, 
die  joyless,  and  disappear  from  the  upper  air  as  if  sinking 
in  a  stagnant  pool ;  it  is  not  the  fault  of  Christianity. 
Christianity  meets  us  where  we  most  of  all  need  its  aid  ; 
and  meets  us  too  with  the  very  aid  we  nesd.  It  does  not 
tell  us  of  the  splendours  of  the  invisible  world  :  but  it 
does  far  better  when,  in  three  words,  it  informs  us  that 
(ctvaXoo'ai)  to  loosen  from  the  shore  of  mortality,  is  (tfOv 
X^itfrw  sfvai)  to  be  with  Christ. 

This  is  precisely  the  assurance  which  the  occasion 
demands  ;  for  it  not  only  quickens  the.  devout  affections 
but  it  fixes  them  on  their  object.  Whoever  has  truly 
admitted  the  emotions  peculiar  to  Christian  faith,  desires 
nothing  more  than  is  conveyed  in  this  pregnant  phrase. 
All  security,  and  all  joy,  are  comprised  in  the  idea  of 
beholding  and  of  approaching  the  Son  of  God — the  Son 
of  Man—  now  exercising  universal  dominion  ; — and 
especially  ruling  the  world  of  spirits.  "  If  I  go,  I  will 
come  again  to  receive  you  to  myself."  This,  and  some 
parallel  expressions,  though  they  have  a  primary  reference 
to  a  future  signal  event,  may,  on  no  very  slender  grounds, 


344  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

be  interpreted  as  conveying  a  promise  to  individuals  ;  as 
if  the  "  Shepherd  of  the  sheep"  were  wont  in  person  to 
meet  the  new-coming  spirit  at  its  entrance  upon  the  realm 
of  peace.  Be  it  so  or  not,  it  is  clear  that  the  faithful  are 
authorized  to  entertain  the  well-defined  hope — the  hope  of 
the  heart,  if  the  heart  be  indeed  renewed,  of  coming,  at 
death,  into  the  sensible  presence  of  the  Saviour.  What  is 
the  dread  or  reluctance  of  nature,  if  the  Christian,  in 
closing  his  eyes  upon  the  world,  can  fix  them  on  the 
Divine  Deliverer,  and  say — "  Thou  wilt  show  me  the 
path  of  Life?" 


XXVII. 
ENDLESS  LIFE. 

"Neither  can  they  Die  any  More." 


CERTAIN  objects  of  meditation,  though  intrinsically 
inferior  to  others,  fully  make  up  their  original  deficiency 
by  the  relation  they  stand  in  to  our  personal  welfare. 
The  fate  of  an  empire  must  not  be  put  in  the  scale  with 
the  life  or  fortune  of  an  individual :  nevertheless  when 
that  individual  is  watching  public  revolutions  which  must, 
in  their  results,  decide  his  particular  destiny,  he  may  find 
it  difficult  to  mainlain  in  his  feelings  a  due  proportion 
between  the  less  and  the  greater  object.  All  other  notions 
or  objects  of  thought  sink  into  insignificance,  or  quite 
disappear,  by  the  side  of  those  two  paramount  ideas — the 
Existence  of  God,  and  the  proper  Immortality  of  human 
nature.  And  although  the  latter  can  bear  no  comparison, 
abstractedly,  with  the  first,  its  ineffable  importance  to 
ourselves  places  the  two  on  a  sort  of  equality  in  our 
minds. 

If  the  first  of  these  truths  challenges  to  itself  all  perfec- 
tions, and  infinity,  as  the  crown  of  all ;  the  second,  how 
limited  soever  may  be  the  elements  to  which  it  relates, 
claims  also  infinity  ;  and  thus  gains  an  importance  that 
is"  not  to  be  measured.  And  in  fact  it  is  this  second  truth 
— the  immortality  of  man,  which  imparts  its  fearful  mo- 
ment to  the  first.  If  the  present  life  were  the  whole  of 
our  destined  period,  we  might  assign  the  principles  of 
theology  to  a  place  among  curious  questions.  But  when 


346  SATURDAY  EVENLMG. 

it  is  told  us  that  the  consciousness  we  inherit  is  strictly 
indestructible — tb.at  no  mutations  in  the  mode  of  existence 
— no  accidents — no  alterations  in  the  laws  of  nature  ; — not 
even  the  upturning  of  ihe  material  universe — not  the 
extinction  of  all  things  visible,  can  bring  about  the  anni- 
hilation of  man,  then  indeed  it  becomes  a  question  of 
unutterable  consequence — "  What  is  God  ?" — for  we — 
even  we,  are  to  be  the  companions  of  his  eternal  duration  ! 
The  creatures  of  a  day — of  a  summer — of  a  century, 
might  be  imagined,  when  they  stand  upon  the  threshold 
of  their  term  of  existence,  to  make  inquiry  concerning 
the  attributes  and  dispositions  of  the  Creator,  and  the 
rules  of  his  government :  for  these  are  to  give  law  to  their 
season  of  life,  and  to  be  the  measure  of  their  enjoyments. 
But  with  what  intenseness  of  anxiety  might  the  SONS  OP 
IMMORTALIY  put  such  questions,  as  they  come  severally 
to  set  foot  upon  a  course  that  shall  have  no  end,  and  that 
must  always  be  gathering  to  itself  importance  !  If  man- 
kind were  awake  to  futurity,  and  discerned  the  present 
stage  of  life  to  be  an  infancy  for  eternity — a  tentative  only 
in  existence — all  would  rush,  as  it  were,  upon  the  great 
field  of  divine  Science,  that  by  every  means  they  might 
truly  know  Him,  who  is  Sovereign  Disposer  of  their 
destiny.  Apart  from  the  doctrine  of  immortality,  the 
doctrine  of  the  Divine  attributes  might  be  tranquilly  dealt 
with,  as  we  deal  with  any  abstruse  matters,  or  with  math- 
ematical principles  : — they  are  of  some  moment ;  but  it  is 
bounded  by  the  brief  period  of  our  own  connexion  with 
the  material  world.  How  much  otherwise  is  it  when 
every  attribute — natural  and  moral,  of  the  Infinite  Being 
shall  forever  concentrate  its  rays,  as  in  a  focus,  upon  the 
immortal  created  spirit ; — so  that  this  spirit  shall  draw  to 
itself,  in  some  manner,  and  without  end,  a  special  conse- 


ENDLESS  LIFE.  347 

quence  from  the  omnipotence,  and  the  omniscience — from 
the  rectitude,  and  the  benignity  of  God  ! 

These  great  truths  are  too  closely  allied  not  to  share  the 
same  fate  in  the  world.  If  the  one  be  obscured  or  deform- 
ed, the  other  is  forgotten  or  villified.  Whoever  knows 
not  God,  knows  not  himself ; — and  the  reverse.  Or  if 
theology  be  frigidly  treated  as  a  sterile,  difficult,  or  vapid 
matter — the  future  life  is  also  a  listless  theme  ;  we  shall 
see  the  incredible  inconsistency  of  a  confession  that  man 
is^  actually  set  out  upon  an  endless  pilgrimage  ;  along 
with  an  easy  contempt  of  all  solicitude  concerning  the 
direction  it  is  to  take  !  But  when  once  the  soul  awakes, 
as  from  a  dream,  to  the  rational  consciousness  of  either 
truth,  with  what  force  and  majesty  does  the  other  present 
itself  to  the  mind  !  The  belief  of  immortality  brings  God 
bnhre  tii3  siul,  as  if  visibly  manifested  : — the  knowl- 
edge of  God  kindles  the  conception  of  endless  life. 

Or  if  we  would  still  more  distinctly  discern  the  connex- 
ion of  these  prime  principles,  let  us  for  a  moment  attempt 
to  sever  them.  lu  the  first  place  (if  indeed  we  dare 
entertain  such  a  conception)  we  may  think  of  finding 
ourselves  members  of  an  innumerable  community  of 
beings  of  like  powers  and  dispositions  ; — not  more  good, 
or  more  wise,  and  yet  all  immortal ; — but  atheistic ; — 
God  having  withdrawn  himself  far,  and  for  ever,  from 
the  circle  of  creation ;  or  that  there  were  no  Intelligent 
Supreme — no  Omnipotence,  no  Ruler,  no  law,  no  order  ! 
— but  that  passions  and  private  interests — pride,  fear, 
desire,  took  their  courses,  in  single  lines,  rushing  one  upon 
the  other  in  confusion,  perpetually  more  confused.  Who 
must  not  court  annihilation,  rather  than  launch  upon  any 
such  shoreless  ocean  of  immortality — without  God? 

Or  let  the  converse  be  thought  of,  and  it  be  supposed 


348  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

that  a  rational  spirit,  after  becoming  in  the  highest  degree 
conscious  of  its  own  powers  of  enjoyment  and  of  progres- 
sion, and  after  gaining  a  sight  of  the  glory  of  the  Most 
High,  and  of  the  felicities  of  eternal  life  ;  after  tasting  the 
fruits  of  heaven,  and  drinking  of  the  cup  of  immortality  j 
should  find  itself  fast  floating  on  to  the  brink  of  extinction  ; 
and  while  the  e  ye  might  yet  gaze  upon  the  bright  and 
unbounded  field  of  endless  bliss — bliss  it  could  so  well 
relish — yes,  with  the  attributes  of  God — the  source  of  good, 
all  before  it,  should  look  down  and  see  the  abyss  of  death 
— death  absolute,  wheremto  a  wave  or  two  more  must 
hurl  it !  Better  not  know  at  all  the  Divine  Perfections, 
than  see  and  know  them,  just  as  we  are  about  to  fall  from 
our  place  in  creation  !  So  true  is  it  that,  if  immortal,  we 
must  seek  for  God ;  and  if  God  be  at  hand,  we  must 
covet  immortality.  It  is  even  just  conceivable  that  the 
most  gross,  sensual,  or  malignant  minds,  which  now — 
while  the  present  life  bounds  their  prospect — ''  desire  not 
the  knowledge  of  the  Almighty,"  and  say  to  Him,  "  depart 
from  us,"  may,  on  their  entrance  upon  that  state  whence 
they  shall  look  on  through  an  interminable  life,  ask  for 
Him  as  Ruler  and  Arbitrator,  although  conscious  of  their 
rebellion  ngainst  his  government.  As  if  it  were  less  tolera- 
ble to  exist  forever  where  God  is  not,  than  to  exist  where 
he  is  an  adversary. 

It  has  been  affirmed,  and  perhaps  with  reason,  that  the 
mere  power  which  the  human  mind  possesses  of  conceiv- 
ing abstractedly  of  a  FIRST  CAUSE — Intelligent  and 
Benignant,  is  proper  proof,  and  real  demonstration,  of  the 
fact.  An  argument  of  this  sort  comes  not  within  the  de- 
sign of  these  pages.  But  it  may  be  said  that,  if  such  an 
argument  be  valid,  it  implies  the  goodness  of  another,  fre- 
quently urged — That  the  expectation  of  a  future  life,  and 


ENDLESS  LIFE. '  349 

the  strong  and  universal  impression  of  mankind  on  this 
subject,  is  equal  to  a  natural  proof  of  what  is  so  universal- 
ly looked  for.  If  man  be  thought  of  only  physiologically, 
it  seems  a  violent  or  monstrous  supposition,  that  he  should 
be  endued  with  an  instinct  that  is  absolutely  nugatory, 
or  destitute  of  object,  intention,  utility.  This  common 
belief  of  a  future  life — if  indeed  there  be  no  such  state, 
is  much  the  same  as  if  the  shoulders  of  the  human  race 
sprouted  with  wings,  though  men  had  no  power  of  raising 
themselves  into  the  air. 

But  whatever  may  be  the  force  of  such  arguments,  our 
faith  in  immortality  actually  takes  its  stand  pn  divine 
testimony,  rather  than  on  abstruse  reasons.  In  truth  we 
have  need  of  this  testimony  to  put  an  end  to  some  doubts 
which  reason  could  never  solve.  There  are  lines  of 
argument  which,  although  they  might  seem  fairly  to  es- 
tablish the  doctrine  of  a  life  after  the  dissolution  of  the 
body,  would  not  absolutely  include  the  notion — amazing 
idea  ! — of  ENDLESS  EXISTENCE.  It  is  one  thing  to 
awake  at  death  to  a  new  life  ;  and  another  to  inherit  ab- 
solutely a  never-ending  life.  The  many  physical  analo- 
gies which  indicate  the  law  of  a  renewal  of  functions,  in 
other  forms,  after  long  periods  of  torpor  or  decay,  would 
not  necessarily  imply  more  than  that  man,  the  noblest  of 
animals,  should  reappear  also  on  the  stage  of  action,  and 
pass  through  a  century  or  more  of  transformations.  The 
same  may  be  said  of  the  common  expectation  of  mankind, 
and  of  the  argument  usually  drawn  (and  very  conclusive- 
ly) from  the  notion  of  good  government,  which  requires 
another  state,  wherein  may  be  vindicated  the  great  axioms 
of  justice  and  virtue — so  much  obscured  as  they  are  by  the 
events  of  the  present  state.  Less  than  eternity  might 
suffice  for  restoring  order  to  the  moral  system,  according 

31 


350  SATURDAY"  EVENING. 

to  human  ideas  of  what  justice  demands.  All  these 
notions  or  conclusions,  though  they  put  contempt  upon 
the  gross  error  of  the  atheist,  will  scarcely  be  deemed 
demonstrative,  though  corroborative,  of  the  capital  truth 
before  us — the  assignment  of  endless  duration  to  created 
minds. 

It  will  indeed  be  alledged,  and  perhaps  justly,  that  the 
same  reasons  which  now  demand  an  after  life,  will  go 
forward  with  undirninished  force  to  another,  and  again  to 
another  epoch  of  existence  ;  so  as  in  fact  to  establish  the 
claim  of  man  to  absolute  immortality.  It  may  be  so ;  and 
yet  the  vastness  of  such  a  belief,  if  we  conceive  of  what 
the  terms  convey,  must  throw  us  back  upon  the  clearest 
and  most  irrefragable  proof.  What  is  it  we  are  speaking 
of  ? — Infinity  !  and  infinity  attached  to  a  finite  being  ! 
Does  it  not  seem  as  if  .for  a  creature  to  challenge  to  itself, 
in  any  sense,  a  boundless  attribute,  were  to  trench  upon 
the  prerogative  of  the  Divine  Nature  1  Or  if  Revelation 
had  not  set  this  matter  on  another  footing  (as  we  shall  see) 
might  it  not  seem  a  surrender  of  the  first  principles  of 
theology  to  admit,  that  beings,  derived,  dependent,  limited, 
might  participate  with  the  uncreated  and  unlimited  nature 
in  the  attribute  of  indestructible  existence  ?  Can  it  be  true 
that  men,  or  any  other  creatures,  shall  go  on  in  company 
with  the  Self-existent  Being,  through  such  tracts  of  dura- 
tion as  shall  almost  bring  oblivion  upon  the  point  of 
commencement,  and  generate  a  consciousness  as  if  He 
and  they  were  alike  eternal  ?  We  talk  lightly  of  immor- 
tality :  but  it  is  because  the  greatness  of  the  idea  prevents 
our  considering  what  it  is  we  affirm.  More  thoughtful- 
ness  would  impel  us  to  look  more  narrowly  to  the  grounds 
of  our  belief. 
But  has  it  not  been  demonstrated  that  MIND,  because  it 


ENDLESS  LIFE.  351 

is  a  simple  and  indestructible  substance,  must  live  for 
ever  ?  Whoever  accepts  this  demonstration  is  free  to  do 
so  ;  and  even  those  who  decline  to  receive  it  as  absolutely 
conclusive,  will  gladly  listen  to  an  argument  on  this 
ground  after  they  have  by  another  process,  convinced 
themselves  that  indeed  the  human  mind  is  destined  to 
perpetuity.  Meanwhile  both  parties  will  gratefully  turn 
to  the  inspired  writings,  to  derive  thence  the  best  sort  of 
evidence  the  doctrine  can  admit.  And  this  evidence  will 
be  found  to  possess  a  force,  by  implication  of  principles, 
which  far  surpasses  any  imaginable  value  that  ought  to 
be  attached  to  the  etymological  import  of  single  words. 

No  etymon  comprises  what  we  are  speaking  of,  or  has 
power  to  convey  so  much  more  than  language  was  formed 
to  express,  or  than  the  notions  of  mankind  at  large  have 
ever  comprehended.  This  truth,  as  it  is  beyond  concep- 
tion, is  far  beyond  words,  and  must  be  drawn  from  the 
great  and  unquestionable  principles  of  religion.  Those 
who  would  succinctly  say,  that  such,  or  such  syllables 
contain  the  affirmation  of  infinite  existence,  have  probably 
never  fixed  their  minds,  with  any  intentness,  upon  that  of 
which  they  speak  ; — have  never  asked  themselves — how 
much  less  than  to  be  divine,  is  it  to  be — immortal  ?  Let 
such  persons  toil  awhile  upon  the  conception,  which  so 
easily  they  talk.  To  facilitate  this  toil  let  them  exchange 
the  idea  of  duration  for  that  of  extension  ;  or  rather 
attempt  to  attach  the  former,  of  which  we  know  little,  to 
the  latter,  of  which  we  know  much  more.  Let  it  be 
imagined  then,  that  the  task  assigned  to  man  were  to  set 
out,  at  his  ordinary  rate  of  movement,  on  a  circuit  of  that 
space  which  is  filled  by  the  visible  creation.  Are  we 
somewhere  in  the  centre  of  that  space  ? — Then  must  the 
traveller  first  make  his  way,  step  after  step,  from  this  oen~ 


352  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

tral  starting-point  to  the  utmost  bounds  of  the  inhabited 
heavens  ;  he  must  go  on  till  he  has  left  behind  him  the 
brighter  of  the  stars  ;  and  those  too  that  are  immensely 
more  remote  than  the  brighter.  But  let  us  cut  short  the 
preliminary  journey,  and  fancy  him  standing  (with  his 
task  still  unatternpted)  at  the  extreme  orbit  of  the  mate- 
rial system.  He  has  to  measure  its  circumference  : — the 
human  foot  has  to  tread  the  zodiac  of  the  universe  !  Has 
it  at  length  accomplished  the  round  of  all  worlds — has  the 
course  of  the  traveller  girt  the  skies? — then  send  him 
forth  anew  to  do  the  same  : — and  when  he  has  repeated 
his  task  as  often  as  there  have  been  single  steps  in  his 
way,  he  will  still  be  young  in  immortality.  To  live  for 
ever,  is  a  far  more  stupendous  matter  than  to  make  the 
circuit  of  creation  a  myriad  of  times. 

It  is  fearful,  if  we  reflect  upon  what  it  implies,  to  bear 
relation,  in  any  way,  even  remotely,  to  infinitude : — for 
who  shall  calculate  the  whole  result  of  such  a  connexion  ? 
How  fearful  then  to  carry  infinity  in  our  very  bosoms  ! — 

to  be  wedded  inseparably  to  that  which  has  no  bounds  ! 

We  may  calmly  survey  all  other  properties  of  human 
nature,  and  may  admire  the  skill  with  which  its  several 
functions  are  combined.  But  shall  we  dare  steadily  to 
fix  the  eye  upon  that  yet  undeveloped  property  which 
lurks  beneath  the  fine  machinery  of  life  ? — Shall  we  gaze 
upon  this  faculty  of  endless  existence — faculty  that  is  now 
but  just  waking  itself  from  the  torpor  of  its  birth,  and  will 
go  on  expanding  its  vigour,  and  springing  up  yet  young 
and  hale,  after  it  has  out  lived  the  stars  ?  In  comparison 
with  this  power  of  eternal  life,  all  powers  are  nothing  :  or 
should  we  not  rather  say,  that  every  faculty  which  is  link- 
ed to  this,  borrows  from  it  an  incalculable  importance  ? 

The  unfixed   practice  of  our  English  translators  in 


ENDLESS  LIFE.  353 

rendering  the  Scripture  terms  of  duration,  has  thrown  a 
disadvantage  upon  certain  very  momentous  questions,  and 
has  made  many  affirmations  of  the  inspired  writers  seem 
vague,  which  probably  were  to  themselves,  and  their  first 
readers,  quite  definite ;  or  at  least  more  so  than  they  are 
to  our  ears.  The  confusion  hence  arising  has  led  certain 
controvertists  to  found  an  argument  upon  the  supposed 
force  of  a  single  term  («/wvio5)  to  which  Scripture  usage 
has  given  a  very  great  latitude  of  meaning ;  and  which 
therefore  must,  in  every  place,  receive  its  specific  value 
from  the  subject  in  hand.  Most  fully  may  it  be  granted 
that  in  the  apostolic  axiom — as  well  as  in  many  other 
places — {«  The  gift  of  God  is  eternal  life,"  there  is  included 
— infinite,  or  never-ending  existence.  But  our  persuasion 
of  this  fact  must  not  be  made  to  hinge  on  the  native  or 
independent  force  of  the  adjective  there  employed  ;  but 
upon  the  evident  intention  of  the  writer,  as  illustrated  and 
confirmed  by  other  means. 

If  the  direct  calculations  by  which  the  distances  of  the 
heavenly  bodies  is  fixed,  were  called  in  question,  recourse 
would  be  had  to  some  more  circuitous  process  of  proof — 
the  parallax — the  times  of  revolution — the  ascertained 
irregularity,  and  disturbance  of  forces  ;  and  when  every 
line  of  proof  was  found  to  accord  with  the  fact,  as  at  first 
affirmed,  the  primary  calculation  would  be  deemed  incon- 
testible.  It  is  thus  that  the  obvious  or  apparent  sense  of 
the  phrase — eternal  life,"  is  attested  and  settled  by  several 
concurrent  arguments.  A  brief  allusion  to  these  is  all 
that  can  comport  with  our  present  purpose. 

In  the  first  place  then,  generally,  the  Scriptures  assign 
to  man  an  original  dignity,  much  greater  than  mere  philo- 
sophy supposes,  or  than  is  implied  in  the  grovelling  senti- 
ments which  the  sensuality  and  the  degradation  of  the 

31* 


354  SATURDAY   EVENING. 

human  mind  itself  engender.  The  inspired  writers,  while 
they  deal  faithfully  with  man  in  regard  to  his  actual 
corruption,  magnify,  without  scruple,  his  character  as 
related  to  God,  and 'to  futurity.  The  style  of  the  Bible,  in 
this  point,  prepares  us  to  receive  whatever  it  may  affirm 
concerning  his  destiny.  And  leave  is  given  at  once  to 
entertain  the  greatest  conceptions,  when,  in  the  first  page 
of  the  sacred  Canon,  it  is  said — and  said  with  emphasis, 
that  "  God  created  man  in  His  own  image  ; — in  the  image 
of  God  created  he  man."  This  first  principle  of  religion 
forbids  or  forestalls,  in  brief,  every  objection  against  what 
may  follow.  And  that  this  dignity,  whatever  it  might 
include,  was  not  forfeited  by  the  transgression  of  Adam,  is 
made  certain  when  the  same  principle  is  anew  affirmed, 
as  an  abstract  or  universal  truth — "  Man  is  the  image  of 
God ;"  or  less  universally,  that,  by  the  Gospel,  all  that 
believe  are  "  made  partakers  of  the  Divine  Nature." 

But  it  is  the  mystery -of  Redemption  that  carries  our 
point,  and  gives  even  a  facility  to  our  conception  of  a 
truth  so  astounding,  as  that  man  is  to  live  for  ever,  by 
placing  it  in  a  subordinate  position  to  the  still  more  amaz- 
ing truth  of  the  union  of  the  Divine  and  human  natures, 
in  the  person  of  the  Mediator.  The  latter  includes  the 
former,  as  the  greater  includes  the  less,  and  implies  it  also; 
so  that  even  if  the  promise  of  eternal  life  had  not  been 
conveyed  in  terms  free  from  ambiguity,  they  must  have 
received  this  absolute  sense  from  the  superior  principle  to 
which  they  are  related.  We  stand  here  on  ground  far 
more  substantial  than  that  of  etymology,  or  verbal  criti- 
cism. We  are  conversant  with  substances,  not  svmbols. 
Our  Lord,  in  his  private  conversations  with  his  disciples, 
avails  himself  of  the  stores  of  tropical  expression  for  the 
purpose  of  fixing  in  their  minds  the  belief  of  an  intimate 


ENDLESS  LIFE.  355 

and  indissoluble  union  between  themselves  and  him. 
And  the  copiousness  and  variety  these  esoteric  discourses 
are  manifestly  intended  to  meet  and  obviate  doubts,  from 
whatever  quarter  arising.  There  is  a  progression  from 
the  figurative  to  the  abstract  style — a  progression  natural 
when  the  speaker  is  solicitous  to  provide  against  all  objec- 
tions. Christ  is  "  the  Shepherd,  who  so  loves  his  flock  as 
to  lay  down  his  life  for  their  sakes."  He  is  "  the  vine," 
and  the  source  of  life  to  the  branches.  But  this  is  not 
enough  ;  and  in  the  most  solemn  forms  of  which  human 
language  is  susceptible,  and  in  a  direct  address  to  the 
Father,  he  carries  to  the  highest  point,  the  idea  of  the  close 
and  inseparable  junction  of  the  Divine  and  human  natures, 
of  which  junction  himself  is  the  medium : — "  That  they 
all  may  be  one,  as  thou,  Father,  art  in  me,  and  I  in  Thee  ; 
that  they  also  may  be  one  in  us."  If  any  thing  of  expli- 
citness  or  of  certainty  be  here  wanting,  it  is  only  because 
the  powers  of  language  must  somewhere  find  a  limit. 

The  Author  of  immortality — resplendent  in  his  title  as 
«  Prince  of  life"—"  the  Living  One"— He  who  "  has  life 
in  himself — who  is  abstractedly — "  the  Life,  and  the 
Light  of  men,"  and  is  "  alive  for  evermore  ;" — and  "  the 
same  yesterday,  to-day,  and  forever  :" — the  Possessor  of 
all  duration — "  whose  goings  forth  have  been  from  ever- 
lasting ;  whose  name  is,  Father  of  eternity ;" — He  who 
thus  draws  to  himself  all  honours,  as  Fountain  of  exis- 
tence, sums  up  every  other  assurance,  when  he  tells  his 
followers  that,  "  BECAUSE  HE  LIVES,  THEY  SHALL  LIVE 
ALSO  ;"  as  if  formally  to  pledge  his  own  immortality  for 
theirs  ; — or  as  if  they  might  fear  extinction,  when  He — 
the  Lord  of  life,  should  be  no  more. 

It  ought  to  be  noticed  that  the  apostles,  in  that  inciden- 
tal manner  which  belongs  to  them,  take  up  and  employ, 


356  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

on  this  subject,  the  several  terms  of  perpetual  duration 
which  their  habit  of  using  the  Greek  language  in  a  Jewish 
sense  naturally  presented  them.* — "So  shall  we  be  for 
ever  (-ravrors,  not  sis  TOV  a/wva)  with  the  Lord."  The  faith- 
ful shall  be  made  pillars  in  the  temple  of  God,  and  shall 
"  go  no  more  out"  (l|w  ou  w  l&^&ji  eVi)  a  mode  of  expression 
as  conclusive  and  emphatic  as  language  well  admits  of. 

But  if  yet  there  were  room  for  a  form  of  affirmation 
which  might  seem  to  comprise  all  others — to  grasp  the 
very  idea  of  endless  existence,  and  to  exclude  ambiguityj 
we  find  it  in  our  Lord's  declaration  concerning  those  who 
should  be  "  deemed  worthy  to  obtain  part  in  the  future 
life  (Ours  yap  dirodavsiv  lr\  Suvavrat)  "  They  CANNOT  DIB  ANY 
MORE  ;  being  on  a  par  with  the  angels."  The  terms 
carry  the  idea  of  an  abstract,  or  of  a  physical  impossibility 
of  undergoing  dissolution  or  extinction  : — such  are  to  be 
made  heirs  of  indestructible  existence. 


*  The  full  illustration  of  this  point  is  unsuited  to  our  purpose ;  but 
is  in  itself,  well  worthy  of  particular  attention.  All  distinctness  on 
this  subject  is  merged  in  our  English  version. 


XXVIII. 
THE  PERPETUITY  OF  HUMAN  NATURE. 

"  This  mortal — must  put  on  immortality." 


AND  now  are  we  to  rest  here  ?  Should  we  come  to 
the  conclusion  that  the  heirship  of  endless  life,  though  it 
be  clung  to  firmly,  is  a  matter  too  vast  and  inconceivable 
to  employ  our  deliberate  meditations  ;  and  must  be  left  as 
a  vague  expectation,  until  it  be  entered  upon  ?  There  is 
a  semblance  of  modesty,  or  devout  humility  in  such  a 
conclusion  : — but  indolence,  or  earthliness,  or  frivolity, 
may  have  a  part  in  it :  and  we  may  as  properly  be  jealous 
of  these,  as  careful  not  to  trench  upon  those. 

We  must  recur  to  a  principle  already  mentioned, 
namely — That  the  Christian  doctrine  of  the  resurrection 
of  the  body,  places  subjects  of  this  class  in  a  position  very 
different  from  that  which  they  might  otherwise  have  occu- 
pied. If  a  simple  announcement  had  been  made  to  us  of 
— a  future,  and  an  endless  life,  we  might  well  have 
thought  that  it  would  bear  so  little  analogy  to  the  present 
condition  of  man  as  scarcely  to  come  within  the  range  of 
our  conjectures.  How  probable  is  it,  we  might  then  have 
said,  that  the  most  elaborate  conceptions  will  prove  to  have 
been  utterly  erroneous,  as  well  in  principle,  as  in  circum- 
stance ;  and  that  the  labour  of  the  mind  in  anticipating 
futurity,  will  be  idle — even  as  a  dream. 

But  the  Christian  hope  of  immortality  is  not  altogether 
of  this  vague  or  unsubstantial  kind :  on  the  contrary,  though 


358  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

much  brevity  belongs  to  the  announcement,  it  is  not  inde- 
terminate. It  is  HUMAN  NATURE,  in  its  essential  elements, 
that  is  to  inherit  eternity  ; — not  an  ethereal  rudiment,  just 
saved  from  the  wreck  of  the  former  fabric,  and  just  serv- 
ing to  connect,  as  by  a  film  of  identity,  the  earthly  with 
the  heavenly  state.  It  is — THIS  MORTAL  that  must,  put 
on  Immortality  j"  the  very  nature  now  subject  to  dissolu- 
tion, is  to  escape  from  the  power  of  death,  and  to  clothe 
itself  in  imperishable  vigour.  Do  we  want  at  once  con- 
firmation and  exemplification  of  this  doctrine  ? — We  have 
both  in  the  resurrection  of  the  Lord. 

Whatever  belongs '  especially  to  the  economy  of  the 
present  life  is  of  course  understood  to  drop  with  the  disso- 
lution of  the  body ; — but  all  other  elements  are  to  be 
perpetuated.  And  the  modes  of  action,  and  the  sentiments, 
and  the  affections,  which  now  are  human,  and  rational, 
will  then  be  so,  even  when  man  shall  have  set  out  anew 
upon  the  road  of  life.  It  is  therefore  by  no  means  pre- 
posterous, or  presumptuous,  or  idle,  to  look  inward  upon 
the  actual  principles  or  machinery  of  our  nature,  and  to 
ask — How  shall  these  same  powers  work,  one  upon 
another,  when  they  shall  take  their  play  at  large  upon 
the  fields  of  boundless  existence  ?  We  may  lawfully  thus 
ruminate  upon  ourselves — enkindle  the  embers  of  hope 
within  our  bosoms,  and  look,  with  a  steady  intelligence, 
to  that  afterstate,  which  is  nothing  but  the  consummation 
of  the  present.  The  proper  office  of  religious  meditation 
is  to  sever  the  precious  from  the  vile — to  throw  off  from 
the  immortal  spirit,  the  adjuncts  and  degradations  that 
oppress  it ;  and  to  borrow  something  from  the  inexhausti- 
ble riches  of  eternity,  for  ennobling  the  poverty  of  time. 

The  human  mind  is  liable  to  two  kinds  of  sudden 
revolution  ;  each  giving  a  new  character  to  its  emotions, 


THE  PERPETUITY  OP  HUMAN  NATURE.  359 

and  a  new  direction  to  its  faculties.     The  first  is  when 
every   habit   and   taste,  nay,  almost  the  identity  of  the 
character,  is  broken  up  by  some  disastrous  stroke,  which 
levels  to  the  dust  every  possession,  and  every  honour,  and 
every  cherished  hope  ;  and  sends  a  man  forth,  as  if  upon 
a  strange  scene  of  things,  with  faculties  (mature  indeed) 
but  not  adapted  to  the  usages  of  that  sphere  which  must 
now  give  them  exercise.     The  recollection  of  his  former 
life  is  a  dream,  that  only  the  more  alienates  him  from  the 
realities  of  the  present.     The  second  kind  or  revolution  is 
of  a  happier  kind,  and  takes  place  when  a  man,  by  an 
unlocked  for  turn  of  fortune,  is  in  an  hour  raised  from 
obscurity  and   penury,  or   from    inaction   and   discredit 
(which  he  had  believed  to  be  his  unalterable  lot)  to  high 
employments,  and  dignity,  and  affluence — to  a  station 
where  at  once  he  finds  scope  for  those  powers  of  mind  of 
which  heretofore  he  had  almost  feared  to  think  himself 
the  possessor,  and  which  his  modesty  had  taught  him  to 
repress  more  than  to  cherish.     In  such  an  hour  of  eleva- 
vation.  a  sound  understanding,  healthfully  excited  rather 
than  made  giddy,  and  much  less  moved  by  the  adjuncts 
of  high  fortune,  than  by  the  substantial  matters  that  claim 
attention,  bends  all  its  thoughts  to  the  principles  of  conduct, 
and  to  the  temper,  which  now  are  called  for.     Such  a  one 
loses  little  time  in  idle  amazement  at  his  own  promotion  ; 
but  with  diligence  adjusts  his   latent   and   unpractised 
powers  to  the  functions  of  his  place  ;  and  even  if  a  day  be 
given  to  exultation,  to-morrow  finds  him — the  man  of  his 
order — serene,  energetic,  and  familiarly  occupied  with  the 
great  cares  that  have  fallen  into  his  hand. 

This  kind  of  sudden  change  is  in  fact  only  a  natural 
expansion  of  existing  powers  : — it  is  so  that  the  blossom 
unfurls  its  ripened  gaiety  to  the  sun  ; — so  that  life, 


360  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

ordinarily  breaks  from  its  confinements ;  and  so,  as  we 
may  well  believe,  that  the  sons  of  immortality  shall  awake 
to  their  lot  in  the  future  world.  Doubt  and  sadness,  and 
the  pusillanimity  that  infests  depression,  shall  be  forgot- 
ten : — the  husk  has  withered,  and  is  fallen  ;  and  all  is 
vigour,  and  freshness,  and  growth.  The  child  of  heaven 
breathes  at  length  his  proper  element — looks,  without 
amazement,  over  the  endless  road  that  lies  outstretched  at 
his  feet,  wonders  not  to  feel  himself  immortal,  and  thinks 
nothing  strange — but  that  he  should?ever  have  doubted  of 
eternity  as  his  inheritance. 

Shall  the  first   clear  prospect  of  this  inheritance — a 
possesion  never  to  be  spent,  and  never  forfeited,  generate 
a  feeling  like  that  with  which  vast  wealth  is  grasped  ? — 
In  like  manner  as  the  love  of  sensual  pleasure  and  ease 
is  only  (as  we  have  said)  a  perversion  of  the  original 
instinct  of  our  nature,  so  is  cupidity,  and  the  lust  of 
property  (one  of  the  firmest  and  most  permanent  of  pas- 
sions) a  perversion  also  of  the  native  impulse  of  the  mind 
to  embrace  and   retain   something  which  it  may  call, 
without  dispute  its  own.     The  vicious  sentiment  that  has 
attached  itself  to  this   strong  native  impulse,  must  not 
prevent  our  acknowledging  that  it  takes  its  rise  from  the 
very  roots  of  the  human  mind  ;  and  if  so,  shall,  in  some 
manner,  find  at  length  a  just  sphere  of  exercise.     Perhaps 
we  might  assume  it  as  true,  that  the  independence  with 
which  intelligent  natures  are  endowed,  and  which  distin- 
guishes such  from  all  inferior  orders,  and  which  is  the 
ground  too,  or  necessary  condition  of  the  moral  system, 
demands,  or  involves,  an   emotion   of  this  sort.      The 
pleasurable  SENSE  OF  POSSESSION  is  (as  we  presume)  a 
proper  constituent  of  an  intelligent  and  accountable  being. 
We  scarcetafind  a  trace  of  any  such  passion  among  the 


THE  PERPETUITY  OP  HUMAN  NATURE.     361 

lower  tribes.  Man  is  the  only  proprietor  on  earth  ;  and 
the  only  miser.  It  is  by  blind  instinct  that  the  bee  and 
the  ant  fill  their  garners, 

Man's  ignorance  of  what  himself  is  capable  of  enjoying, 
throws  him  upon  the  capital  error  of  looking  to  things 
exterior  and  alienable,  as  his  wealth  ;  and  in  making  this 
ill  choice,  he  heaps  to  himself  a  world  of  care ; — for  a 
thousand  accidents  may  come  and  intervene  between  his 
passion  and  its  object.  Thus  it  is  that,  while  other  irreg- 
ular desires  bring  their  retributive  sorrow  after  the  hour 
of  gratification  is  gone  by,  Avarice  stands,  scourge  [in 
hand,  over  her  victim,  and  inflicts  a  cruel  pang  at  every 
instant.  No  such  error  or  disorder  shall  have  place  in 
the  world  of  perfection.  The  strong  instinct  of  the  soul 
shall  be  turned  inward :  and  how  shall  we  conceive  of 
the  force  it  shall  suddenly  acquire  when  its  object  is 
nothing  less  than  a  title  to  endless  life  !  We  say — sud- 
denly acquire ; — and  yet  it  may  be  conceived  that  the 
impression  which,  during  its  terrestrial  course,  has  fixed 
itself  deeply  in  the  mind,  of  the  brevity  and  near  termina- 
tion of  all  enjoyments,  will  be  carried  forward  awhile, 
even  into  eternity  ;  nor  at  once  be  obliterated.  Perhaps 
some  experience  of  the  solid  and  permanent  quality  of 
happiness  in  the  future  world  must  be  had,  before  the 
mind  shall  be  fully  awake  to  the  sense  of  its  boundless 
property  in  joy.  It  may  have  advanced  some  way  on 
the  road  of  endless  life,  and  may  have  looked  on  with 
exultation  to  a  remote  eminence  of  the  great  horizon — 
bright  in  the  beams  of  perpetual  day  toward  which  it  is 
advancing,  before  the  thought  distinctly  arises — that  that 
far  distant  height  even  when  attained,  shall  but  afford  a 
new  prospect  of  a  still  wider  expanse  of  the  plains  of 
eternity.  This  it  is  to  be  wealthy : — this  is  POSSESSION 

32 


362  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

— to  have  in  the  bosom  the  principle  or  law  of  immortal- 
ity, and  while  conscious  of  it,  to  look  abroad  upon  a  world 
of  pleasure,  whereon  there  is  nothing  exclusive. 

This  is  wealth  !  and  yet  it  is  held  on  conditions. — 
What  were  eternity  without  the  providence  and  promise 
of  God  ?  Let  it  be  supposed  that  beings  like  ourselves 
were  to  enter  upon  unbounded  duration,  under  the  fairest 
circumstances,  and  in  possesion  of  all  powers  and  means 
of  enjoyment :  nevertheless  it  must  be  felt  that  the  revo- 
lution of  all  possible  events  which  eternity  includes,  must 
(if  uncontrolled)  bring-  into  jeopardy,"  in  turns,  every 
source  of  happiness,  and  every  principle  of  virtue.  If 
happiness  and  virtue  might  even  be  secured  thrcugh  one 
period  of  duration,  or  through  many,  the  infinite  series 
will,  somewhere,  place  in  opposition  principles  that  shall 
clash,  and  shatter  one  the  other.  The  powers  of  Eternity 
are  then  so  many  powers  of  terror  to  the  inheritors  of 
immortality,  unless  they  are  known  to  be  all  provided  for 
by  the  SUPREME  POWER.  If  we  do  but  attentively 
consider  what  is  meant  by  endless  duration,  we  shall 
vividly  feel  that  the  prospect  of  if,  as  actually  outstretched 
before  us,  must  drive  the  soul  in  amazement  and  dread 
to  throw  itself  upon  the  Divine  care.  What  is  the  fore- 
sight of  a  created  mind— what  are  its  resolutions— what 
its  faculties — what  its  personal  sufficiency,  when  brought 
into  play  with  the  hazards  of  eternity  ?  Shall  not  the  depen- 
dent spirit  eagerly  seek  a  refuge,  and  a  strength,  and  an 
explicit  promise  too,  before  it  can  dare  even  to  look  down 
upon  that  terrible  infinity  (though  it  seemed  crowded  with 
delights)  which  spreads  itself  out  on  all  sides  ?  Must  not 
the  finite,  the  insufficient  being,  cling  to  the  arm  of  Om- 
nipotence, when  first  it  sets  foot  upon  the  road  of  eternal 
life  1  Will  it  not  hold  back  as  it  gazes  upon  the  vast 


THE  PERPETUITY  OF  HUMAN  NATURE.  363 

unknown,  and  ask  to  hear  those  words  of  consolation — 
"  I  will  never  leave  thee,  no,  never  forsake  thee  !" 

Does  not  this  idea  bring  into  view  one  of  those  princi- 
ples, that,  as  a  means,  or  motive,  secures  the  allegiance  of 
happy  and  immortal  beings  £  With  our  present  feelings, 
when  we  look  up,  and  conceive  of  the  loyal  hierarchy 
that  surrounds  the  mount  of  God,  we  almost  tremble  lest 
some  unlooked-for  caprice  of  the  voluntary  power,  should 
surprise  any,  and  ia  a  moment  hurl  them  from  their 
places.  But  beside  other  principles  of  conservation — do 
not  all  orders,  from  their  high  standing,  look  forward 
through  the  unnumbered  ems  of  duration,  which  each  for 
himself  has  yet  to  pass  through  ? — and  who  knows  what 
strange  occasions  those  ears  may  produce — who  can 
divine  what  trials  may  yet  sleep  in  the  womb  of  eternity? 
— Certain  devout  expressions  of  confidence  in  God,  which 
we  ordinarily  presume  to  be  applicable  only  to  this  present 
state  of  pains  and  fears,  may  perhaps  be  heard  (who  shall 
say  they  are  not  ?)  to  ring  around  the  throne  in  the  hea- 
vens, among  those  who  (better  taught  tlian  we  are  in  the 
great  lesson  of  the  frailty  and  dependence  of  finite  beings) 
tremble  in  the  consciousness  of  their  own  endless  exis- 
tence, and  prostrating  themselves  before  God,  exclaim — 
"  Thou  art  our  Refuge  and  Strength  : — our  Rock  and 
High  Tower : — in  Thee  will  we  be  confident.  What 
time  we  are  afraid  we  will  trust  in  Thee.  Yea,  in  the 
name  of  our  God  will  we  set  up  our  banners.  Thy 
throne,  O  God,  is  for  ever  and  ever,  and  \ve,  while  press- 
ing around  the  foot  of  it,  are  secure  in  bliss  !" 
.  A  blank  promise  of  security  is  not  that  which  the 
Scriptures  afford  to  those  who  receive  the  Gospel ;  for  the 
"  promise  left  us,"  sanctioned  by  the  "  oath  of  Him  who 
cannot  lie,"  is  made  the  vehicle  of  conveying  to  the  hu- 


364  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

man  race  all  the  knowledge  it  can  at  present  receive  of 
the  ineffable  constitution  of  the  Divine  Nature.  The  one 
God — the  Father,  the  Son,  and  the  Spirit,  is  not  made 
known  to  us  in  the  method  of  an  independent  revelation 
of  that  high  mystery ;  but  only  in  its  relation  to  the  re- 
demption and  ultimate  security  of  man.  This  observable 
fact  (which  gave  occasion  to  the  error  of  the  Medalists  and 
Sebellians)  involves  a  pregnant  inference  for  the  future 
world ;  and  naturally  leads  to  the  supposition  (or  let  it  be 
called  conjecture)  that  the  same  mystery  is  hereafter  to 
evolve  itself,  to  the  apprehension  of  the  redeemed,  on  the 
same  principle  of  its  bearing  upon  their  preservation. 
As  if  the  personal  solicitude  of  the  heirs  of  eternal  life — 
or  rather  their  sense  of  dependence  and  frailty,  was  to  be 
the  special  motive  that  should  impel  them  intently  to  gaze 
upon  the  Supreme  Nature,  and  to  watch  its  gradual 
developements,  that  they  may  discern,  more  and  more 
clearly,  the  reasons,  immutable,  of  their  own  safety. 

The  Supreme  Nature,  which  includes  all  perfections 
and  elements  of  bliss,  need  not  be  conceived  of  as  certain- 
ly affording  to  any  beings  a  full  manifestation  of  its  own 
constitution.  Nor  perhaps  would  do  so  at  all,  if  it  were 
not  that  this  constitution  has,  in  a  special  manner,  been 
involved  in  the  destinies  of  some  members  of  the  intelli- 
gent creation.  May  it  distinctly  be  conjectured,  or  vaguely 
surmised,  that  the  occurrence  of  evil,  and  the  DIVINE 
ACTS  consequent  upon  it,  have  served  to  bring  forth  from 
the  Eternal  Bosom  the  long-hidden  mystery  of  the  Divine 
Existence  ?  Shall  it  be  lawful  to  think  that,  in  suddenly 
coming  forth  to  the  rescue  of  a  fallen  race,  God  became 
manifest  to  the  eyes  of  all  intelligent  orders,  as  heretofore 
He  had  not  been ;  and  that  they  then  beheld  the  Infinite 
Nature,  in  its  essential  distinction  ? 


THE  PERPETUITY  OF  HUMAN  NATURE.  365 

With  more  certainty  it  may  be  affirmed  that  the  econ- 
omy of  human  salvation  has,  to  the  human  family,  so 
signalized  the  distinction  of  the  Triune  Nature,  that  it 
will  not  again  be  lost  sight  of ;  but  rather  will  be  more 
and  more  evolved  in  the  view  of  the  redeemed  race. 
This  at  least  may  readily  be  supposed,  that  human  minds 
shall  find  all  their  sense  of  safety,  and  all  the  calmness  of 
their  joy,  to  spring  from  their  knowledge  of  the  Great 
Mystery,  of  which  on  earth  they  had  received  the  rudi- 
ments, and  which  heaven  shall  much  more  develope. 

The  greatest  object  must  command  the  attention  of  all 
who  have  it  ia  prospect.  And  where  the  Supreme  Being 
is  sensibly  present,  He  must  fix  upon  himself  every  eye. 
But  shall  it  be  so  for  ever  ?  Shall  active  and  intelligent 
natures,  always  advancing  (and  perhaps  rapidly)  in  know- 
ledge and  in  power  of  comprehension,  at  length  attain  to 
such  a  maturity  and  completeness  of  conception,  as  to 
leave  nothing  unfathomed,  even  in  the  Infinite  Nature? 
It  seems  at  first  sight  almost  difficult  to  believe  the  con- 
trary ; — for  the  faculties  of  knowledge  are  open  to  what 
may  be  termed  a  law  of  geometrical  progression  ;  every 
argument  is  pregnant  and  multiplies  itself  by  combination 
with  others.  Our  first  thoughts  might  lead  us  thus  to 
suppose  that  the  accumulations,  both  of  knowledge  and 
of  the  power  of  comprehension,  might  at  length  (or  must) 
reach  a  climax  and  a  pause.  But  more  deliberate  con- 
sideration brings  us  to  a  different  conclusion,  which,  if  it 
wmsl  be  summarily  expressed  in  abstruse  terms,  neverthe- 
less may  be  expanded  by  whoever  will  fix  his  mind  upon 
ihe  subject  Although  the  Divine  Nature  be  not  in  any 
sense  mutable  or  progressive,  its  perfections  do,  as  we  see 
come  into  relation  with  that  which  is  both  mutable  and 
progressive.  In  other  words,  there  is  going  on  now  (and 

33* 


366  SATURDAV  EVENING. 

we  should  believe  always  will  be  going  on)  an  interaction 
between  the  power,  wisdom,  and  moral  attributes  of  God, 
on  the  one  hand,  and  the  finite  and  created  system  on  the 
other.     It  is  by  the  fruits  or  products  of  this  interaction 
that  the  Divine  Nature  becomes  cognizable  ;  and  it  might 
be  affirmed,  almost  as   a  demonstrable  verity,  that  The 
Infinite  Perfections  shall  never  have  exhausted  those  com- 
binations of  which  the  finite  and  created  system  is  suscep- 
tible.    If  the  works  and  dispensations  of  God  are  the 
book  ifl  Ayhich  intelligent  beings  are  to  read  the  character 
pf  the  author,  we  may  certainly  aver,  that  the  Commeir 
tary  shall  never  reach  a  close.     And  not  merely  is  it  true 
that  there  shall  be  no  end  to  the  series  of  facts  and  events 
— of  products,  persons,   revolutions ;    and  these   always 
various,  so   that  there  shall  be  an    incessant  streani  of 
novelties ;  but  (which   is  of  far  more   consequence)  all 
such  new  products — actors  and  destinies,  shall  be  fresh 
manifestations  of  the  principles  whence  they  proceed — 
further  interpretations  of  the  Divine  Nature. 

The  intelligent  and  immortal  nations,  continually  ac.- 
cumulating  their  knowledge,  and  by  means  of  these 
accessions  gaining  more  and  more  power  of  grasping  the 
principles  of  celestial  wisdom,  shall  find,  that  the  effect  of 
such  advancement  is  only  to  give  them  a  still  more  en- 
larged conception  of  the  immeasurable  distance  between 
the  creature  and  the  Creator.  It  is  so  that  the  traveller 
who  ascends  slowly  the  steep  sides  of  the  Andes,  when, 
stage  after  stage,  he  looks  beneath  and  around  him,  and 
gazes  at  each  advance  upon  a  wider  horizon  than  before, 
convinces  himself  that  he  is  actually  attaining  a  great 
elevation  above  the  common  level  of  earth,  whence  he 
started.  And  yet,  when  he  looks  upward  to  the  starry 
vault,  and  sees  it  now  in  all  its  amplitude,  and  through  a 


THE  PERPETUITY  OF  HUMAN  NATURE.  367 

more  translucent  medium,  so  as  that  more  distinctly 
than  before  he  is  conscious  of  the  vastness  and  distance 
of  the  heavenly  system,  his  impression  is  not  that  he 
is  getting  nearer  to  the  stars  ;  but  rather  that,  though 
actually  he  rises,  they  are  drawing  back  to  a  greater 
remoteness,  and  are  contemning  his  feeble  efforts  to  climb 
on  high. 

But  how  shall  \ve  at  all  conceive  of  that  strange  com- 
mixture of  sentiments,  apparently  incompatible,  the  one 
with  the  other,  which  shall  result,  after  the  lapse  of  ex- 
tended periods,  from  this  vastly-augmented  sense  of  the 
Infinitude  of  God,  on  the  one  hand  ;  and  from  that  sense, 
on  the  other,  of  the  lessening  of  the  distance  between  the 
created  and  the  uncreated  spirit,  which  (as  before  we  have 
observed)  belongs  to  the  full  play  of  the  devout  affections  ? 
This  inconceivable  conflict  or  counterpoise,  well  deserves  to 
be  thought  of.  And  we  may  think  of  it  though  imperfect- 
ly ;  because  it  just  makes  itself  felt  in  the  present  state. 
Does  there  not  sometimes  arise  a  sort  of  pleasurable  agony  in 
the  heart,  when  intimate,  and  affectionate,  and  even  ten- 
der emotions  of  gratitude,  and  love,  and  complacency 
(such  as  the  Scriptures  authenticate)  are  vividly  combined 
with  ideas  of  the  power,  majesty,  and  incomprehensible 
attributes  of  Him  with  whom  thus  we  are  conversing  ? 
How  do  these  emotions  enhance  one  the  other,  until  the 
frailty  of  the  mind  compels  it  to  fall  back  to  earth.  And 
shall  it  be,  that  both  this  affectionate  approximation,  and 
this  augmented  sense  of  the  remoteness  of  the  Supreme 
Being,  are  to  go  on  together  through  the  eras  of  eternity, 
— each  more  and  more  intense  continually,  and  each 
working  upon  its  antagonist  with  greater  force  !  The 
thought  of  a  counterpoise  like  this,  does  it  not  well 
exclude  from  our  anticipation  of  endless  life,  all  idea  of 
stagnation  pr  decay  J 


XXIX. 
UNISON  OF  THE  HEAVENLY  HIERARCHY. 

"  Christ — the  Head  of  all  Principality  and  Power." 


LET  such  a  state  of  things  be  distinctly  conceived  of  as 
would  be  produced  among  mankind  if — shall  we  say,  a 
thousand  of  the  heroes  and  sages  of  antiquity — men  born 
for  domination,  or  born  to  instruct  their  fellows — Cyrus, 
Numa,  Pythagoras,  Themistocles,  Coriolanus,  Solon  ; — 
Epaminondas,  Hannibal,  Scipio,  Sylla  ; — Alexander, 
Caesar,  Trajan,  with  others  subordinate,  and  fitted  to  be 
the  ministers  of  their  power — had  enjoyed  immortality  on 
earth  from  their  own  age  to  ours,  and  during  the  lapse  cf 
the  intervening  centuries  had  been  in  the  midst  of  affairs, 
and  conversant  with  all  revolutions ; — in  one  era  at  the 
summit  of  prosperity  ;  in  another  struggling  with  rever- 
ses ;  but  always  accumulating  theoretic  and  practical 
wisdom  : — that  they  had  long  ago  thrown  off,  as  a  man 
discards  the  follies  of  boyhood,  the  prejudices  or  unsound 
principles  of  their  early  course  ; — had  learned  to  concen- 
trate all  motives  and  passions  upon  the  one  great  purpose 
of  securing  to  themselves  the  submission  of  mankind  ; — 
had  been,  during  all  that  time,  so  perfecting  their  know- 
ledge of  the  laws  of  human  affairs,  as  to  enable  them 
almost  infallibly  to  predict  the  course  of  events,  and  to 
adapt  their  conduct  to  furturity,  as  if  guided  by  an  oracle 
in  every  practical  decision. 

In  what  manner  would  our  statesmen  and  captains — 
the  men  of  ftiirty,  fifty,  or  seventy  years,  beseem  them- 


UNISON  OF  THE  HEAVENLY  HIERARCHY.          369 

selves  in  the  society,  and  under  the  orders  of  the  men  of 
twenty  centuries? — How  would  those  who  have  had 
experience  of,  perhaps,  as  many  affairs  as  they  could  give 
the  history  of  in  a  day,  sit  in  council  with  the  Fathers  of 
empire,  each  of  whose  personal  adventures  would  be  more 
voluminous  than  the  entire  bulk  of  our  extant  universal 
history  ?  If  there  be  indeed  any  general  principles  to 
which  the  affairs  of  men  and  nations  are  conformed,  and 
if  also  these  general  principles  are  much  entangled  with 
indirect  or  latent  causes,  then  must  an  incalculable 
advantage  rest  on  the  side  of  those  whose  actual  know- 
ledge and  experience  was,  to  that  of  other  men,  as  fifty  or 
a  hundred  to  one.  It  is  hard  to  imagine  any  sort  of  com- 
munion, or  of  combined  agency,  or  any  mutual  good-will 
and  respect,  among  parties  so  immensely  unequal.  With 
the  seniors,  the  courtesies  of  conversation  must  have  been 
insincere — mere  affectations  of  sociality,  a  voluntary 
humility,  more  mortifying  to  the  juniors  than  open  arro- 
gance and  contempt.  With  the  juniors,  silence  arid 
servility  would  have  been  the  only  mode  of  good  sense  : — 
manly  independence  must  have  seemed  the  most  egregious 
folly.  Wisdom  would  rather  be  crushed  in  the  germ, 
than  cherished  in  such  society. 

And  yet  what  is  it  that  we  have  to  look  to  in  the  world 
of  immortality  ?  Are  there  no  ancients  in  that  world — 
no  superiorities  ?  are  we  not  infallibly  told  that  it  contains 
Thrones  Principalities,  Powers  ?  Are  there  not  probably 
(nay  can  we  believe  otherwise)  are  there  not,  in  that 
world,  a  thousand  servants  of  the  Most  High,  who  have 
occupied  posts  of  trust  and  honour  at  the  right  hand  of 
universal  dominion,  while  sun  and  planets  have  been 
running  through  their  destined  periods,  and  have  vanish- 
ed ?  On  this  matter  of  fact  the  brief  but  intelligible  notices 


370  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

of  Revelation  accord  entirely  with  the  suppositions  of 
sound  reason.  The  Sadducean  belief  that  man  is  the 
only  intelligent  order  in  the  creation — or  the  most  ancient 
order,  is  an  opinion  very  much  on  a  level  (as  to  its  ab- 
stract probability)  with  that  of  those  sages  who  .deem  the 
stars  and  planets,  the  sun  nnd  the  moon,  to  be  nothing 
more  than  spangles,  or  fiery  points  in  our  mundane  firma- 
ment. 

Reason  would  indeed  easily  assent  to  the  supposition 
that  tribes  and  orders  immensely  unequal  in  power  and 
knowledge,  should  keep  to  their  several  abodes,  and 
observe  impassable  intervals  between  rank  and  rank. 
This  would  evade  the  difficulty.  But  the  implied  mean- 
ing of  certain  scriptural  phrases  leads  us  to  a  different 
belief — namely,  that  man  is  to  take  no  subaltern  position 
in  the  great  world ;  and  on  the  contrary,  is  to  come,  on 
terms  of  honour,  into  the  highest  communities.  And  the 
principle  which  shall  harmonize  this  system,  is  at  once 
seen,  if  it  be  assumed  that  when  the  Eternal  World  was 
made  flesh — when  He  who  was  "  before  all  things,  and 
in  whom  all  things  consist,"  humbled  himself  to  the  level 
of  mortality,  and,  "  passing  by  the  nature  of  angels,"  took 
upon  him  a  nature  "  somewhat  lower,"  there  was  a  pur- 
pose involved  which  goes  beyond  the  immediate  results  of 
the  propitiatory  work  of  the  Redeemer.  So  that  when 
his  vicarious  function  shall  have  reached  their  completion, 
the  union  of  the  Divine  and  human  natures  shall  continue 
to  bear  a  relation  to  the  social  economy  of  the  great  im- 
mortal family  in  the  heavens,  and  shall  for  ever  subsist, 
as  the  principle,  or  the  reason  of  communication  and 
harmony,  among  all  ranks. 

The  mystery  of  redemption  has  fairly  brought  all  sup- 
positions within  our  range ; — for  the  most  amazing  facts 


UNISON  OP  THE  HEAVENLY  HIERARCHY.          371 

must  still  be  inferior  to  this.  We  may  say  then  that, 
when  the  Eternal  Word  took  upon  him  the  nature  of 
man,  he  embraced  in  one  bond  of  love  all  intermediate 
orders.  Without  annulling  real  and  native  inequalities, 
without  degrading  the  high,  for  the  sake  of  the  low,  he 
brought  in  a  law  of  relationship,  which  at  once  obliges  the 
highest  to  recognise  a  dignity,  in  the  lower,  without  pre- 
sumption, to  take  the  place  assigned  them.  If  analogies 
or  comparisons  on  such  subjects  did  not  spoil  our  concep- 
tions as  much  as  aid  them,  we  might  find  illustrations  in 
the  history  and  affairs  of  men,  in  some  degree  applicable 
to  our  theme.  But  at  least  we  may  discover  in  our  bosoms 
a  natural  sentiment,  that  will  aid  the  mind  in  conceiving 
of  the  influence  which  the  assumption  of  our  nature  by 
the  Divine  nature,  may  exert,  in  familiarizing  the  human 
spirit  with  other  orders — let  them  be  lofty  as  they  may. 
Shall  the  elder  and  princely  personages  of  the  celestial 
polity  think  it  irksome  to  live  as  brethren  with  the  race  of 
Adam?  Shall  they  draw  off  to  their  privileged  quarters, 
and  consort  only  with  their  peers  ?  This  were  to  stand 
aloof  from  the  Throne ,  or  to  be  distant  from  Him  who  is 
the  Visible  Manifestation  of  the  Invisible  God. 

And  this  great  scheme  may  also  serve  to  illustrate  signal- 
ly, in  the  view  of  all  beings,  the  important  truth — That, 
whoever  is  capable  of  knowing  God,  and  whoever  actually 
loves  Him,  is  therefore  capable  of  any  function,  and 
eligible  to  any  dignity.  What  is  there  that  may  not  be 
known,  comprehended,  or  achieved,  by  an  intelligent  agent 
who  has  attained  to  intimate  friendship  with  the  Most 
High  ?  What  task  is  there  too  arduous  to  be  confined  to 
those  whom  the  Son  of  God  calls  his  brethren  and  his 
friends  ?  If  human  nature  had,  in  its  native  construction, 
lacked  any  capital  element — intellectual  or  moral,  that  is 


372  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

possessed  by  higher  orders,  it  could  not  have  admitted  of 
such  an  alliance  as  it  has.  But  in  the  scheme  of  redemp- 
tion, the  original  purpose  of  the  Creator,  when  he  said — 
"  Let  us  make  man.  in  our  image,"  is  at  once  ex- 
pounded and  authenticated,  and  it  is  seen  that  nothing 
great  or  illustrious  was  to  be  denied  him. 

Once  well  harmonized  by  a  principle  so  efficient  as  that 
here  spoken  of,  diversities  of  rank,  power,  office,  and  attain- 
ment, existing  within  the  same  circle  of  intercourse,  cannot 
fail  to  be  the  source  of  pleasures  and  advancement.  It  is 
so  even  on  earth,  and  would  be  so  in  a  vastly  greater 
degree,  if  malign  and  selfish  passions  were  not  in  opera- 
tion. Both  arrogance  and  modesty  operate  as  impedi- 
ments to  the  expansion  of  faculties,  where  self-love  is 
pur-blind,  and  petulant.  If  men  were  jealous  of  no 
rivalry — ambitious  of  no  exclusive  praise — in  fear  of  no 
misinterpretations — fretted  by  no  errors  of  estimation — 
encumbered  by  no  diffidence  (offspring  of  pride  and  in- 
firmity) ; — if,  in  a  word,  they  were  impelled  always  by  the 
simplest  and  the  most  DIRECT  motives,  the  minds  of  all 
would  start  up  with  a  new  energy,  and  move  at  another 
rate,  than  heretofore.  On  the  one  hand,  the  spectacle  of 
signal  instances  of  power  and  virtue,  if  the  bosoms  of  all 
were  purged  of  envy,  would  furnish  an  exhilarating  mo- 
tive, that  must  at  once  strengthen  and  animate  all  minds : 
— just  as  the  most  invigorating  warmth  is  produced  on 
the  surface  of  the  earth,  not  so  much  by  the  direct  radiance 
of  the  sun,  as  by  the  reverberation  of  his  rays  from  the 
sides  of  hills — rocks — edifices. 

Neither  is  it  in  a  small  degree  that  the  morbid  sensitive- 
ness of  the  selfish  principle  in  the  mass  of  mankind,  gives 
embarrassment  to  those  who  are  conscious  of  superior 
power.  The  native  differences  between  man  and  man 


UNISON  OF  THE  HEAVENLY  HIERARCHY.          373 

are  not  great  enough  to  break  up  the  system  of  ostensible 
equality.  The  law  of  equality  is  therefore  maintained  in 
society,  as  a  convenient  means  of  avoiding  the  collisions 
of  self-love,  and  the  contestations  of  arrogance  and  vanity. 
By  a  conventional  rule,  all  are  to  beseem  themselves  as  if 
all  were  on  a  par.  But  this  figment,  which  draws  its 
reason  from  pride,  imposes  a  real  disadvantage  upon  those 
who,  in  complying  with  it,  have,  if  not  to  hold  their  per- 
sonal advantages  in  abeyance,  at  least  to  assume  a  posture 
which  in  fact  makes  the  native  stature  of  the  mind  to 
cringe.  Freed  effectively  from  the  feelings  that  arise  from 
this  artificial  equalization  of  mankind,  how  would  all 
powers  spring  into  action  ! 

No  such  concealment  or  disadvantage  shall  belong  to 
the  great  community  of  heaven.  Even  if  it  were  desira- 
ble, it  could  not  be  effected,  in  a  system  which  combines 
inequalities  a  thousand  times  greater  than  any  that  are  to 
be  found  among  men.  But  the  disguise  by  which  on 
earth  it  is  attempted  to  make  all  men  seem  on  a  par,  will 
not  be  needed  in  heaven ;  for  the  blindness  of  self-love 
will  be  dispelled  ; — the  arrogance  of  ambition  will  not 
exist ; — nor  will  envy  pine  there.  And-  may  we  again 
revert  to  the  supposition  that  the  presence  and  supremacy 
of  the  INCARNATE  WORLD  shall  operate  among  the  diverse 
and  unequal  orders  as  a  special  principle  of  harmony  in 
which  the  highest  shall  find  more  than  motive  enough  for 
moderation,  and  the  lowest  a  motive  (most  peculiar)  that 
must  dispel  abject  timidity.  In  Him  "  all  things  consist" 
(things  heavenly)  who  being  exalted  ''far  above  principal- 
ities and  powers,"  brings  together,  in  the  mystery  of  his 
person,  the  least  and  the  greatest ; — the  most  recent,  and 
the  most  ancient  of  the  intelligent  tribes. 

Of  the  heavenly  edifice,  still  more  emphatically  than  of 

33 


374  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

the  militant  church,  it  may  be  affimed,  that  "  Jesus  is  the 
key-stone  of  the  pediment,  in  whom  all  the  structure  duly 
framed,  increaseth  to  a  holy  temple — even  in  the  Lord." 
Or  the  figure  being  changed — "  HE  is  the  head,  related  to 
which  all  the  members  are  jointed  together,  and  firmly 
compacted ;  so  as  that  by  rendering,  according  to  their 
several  functions,  mutual  aid,  the  entire  body  continually 
augments  itself  in  power  of  love-"  In  the  doctrine  of  the 
human  and  divine  nature  of  Christ  we  have  an  effective 
principle  of  sociality  among  unequal  orders  ;  and  the  more 
we  meditate  on  the  subject,  the  more  shall  we  see  its  fit- 
ness to  answer  this  purpose  ;  and  the  more  be  disposed  to 
think,  that  without  it,  no  such  communion  would  be 
practicable. 

At  least  to  the  human  race  the  headship  of  the  Incar- 
nate Word  must  form  the  reason  of  an  indissoluble  union 
among  all  the  members.  How  probable  may  it  seem,  on 
mere  grounds  of  rational  calculation,  that  the  protracted 
eras  of  eternal  life  might  for  ever  separate  those  who,  in 
starting  upon  such  a  course,  are  prepared  to  move  at  vastly 
different  rates.  So  far  as  such  an  illustration  is  applica- 
ble to  the  subject,  it  may  be  said  that,  while  the  lower 
and  physical  powers  of  human  nature  are  capable  of 
improvement  or  augmentation  only  at  the  rate  of  arith- 
metical progression,  its  higher  powers  of  knowledge, 
intelligence  and  virtue  are  susceptible  of  geometrical 
progression :  that  is  to  say,  of  increase  and  expansion 
by  working  one  upon  the  other,  as  well  as  by  simple 
accessions.  The  several  intellectual  and  moral  faculties 
are  to  each  other,  when  fully  put  in  play,  as  multiplicator 
and  multiplicand  ;  and  each  new  product  is  a  new  power 
of  acceleration.  If  so,  every  initial  advantage  is  an  in- 
calculable one,  when  an  endless  series  is  in  view.  And 


UNISON  OF  THE  HEAVENLY  HIERARCHY.         375 

it  may  seem  almost  inevitable  to  believe  that  the  difference 
among  the  competitors,  at  a  remote  stage  of  their  course, 
will  be  immeasurably  greater  than  it  was  at  its  commence- 
ment. 

How  then  shall  these  unequal  velocities  be  kept  in 
harmony  ?  A  difficult  problem,  unless  we  conceive  of  all 
as  performing  their  endless  circuits  around  one  and  the 
same  Centre  of  Light.  On  this  plan,  the  wider  orbits, 
always  embracing  the  smaller,  shall  maintain  unity  and 
neighbourhood.  Of  Him  who  is  the  centre  of  that  system 
it  is  said,  that  "  the  fulness  of  Deity  dwells  in  him  ;" — 
that  "  all  the  treasures  of  wisdom  and  knowledge  are  hid 
in  him  ;" — so  that  He,  standing  incomparably  above  the 
highest  created  minds,  and  yet  condescending  to  maintain 
familiar  intercourse  with  the  feeblest,  shall  hold  all 
extremes  in  amity.  UNISON  is  the  word  which  at  o»ce 
characterizes  true  religion,  and  describes  the  upper  world. 
And  of  this  unison  Christ  is  the  principle,  both  in  heaven 
and  on  earth.  Because  in  heaven  "  all  things  are  subject 
to  the  Son,"  heaven  is  happy  :  and  on  earth  man  is  not 
happy,  because  this  is  not  the  fact.  And  so  within  the 
circle  of  the  church  there  is  peace,  and  joy,  and  the  energy 
of  expansion,  when  the  church  is  one  in  Christ : — there 
is  dejection,  and  doubt,  and  a  sickly  or  inefficient  zeal, 
when  the  honour  which  belongs  to  Him  as  the  centre  of 
Love,  is  given  to  the  idols  of  discord. 

"  From  him  every  family*  in  heaven  and  earth  is  de- 
nominated ;" — pregnant  words,  which  at  once  reveal  the 


*  nsaa  *arfh,  not  "  the  whole  family  ;"  but  "  all  tribes"  or  races. 
The  author  is  not  ignorant  that  the  predication  (Ephes.  iii.  15)  is  by 
some  attributed  tothe  Father ;  but  he  must  profess  to  hold  with  those 
who  assign  it  to  the  Son. 


376  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

mysteries  of  the  upper  world,  and  are  prophetic  of  the 
future  condition  of  mankind.  It  is  even  now  true  that 
*'  all  in  heaven" — those  who  have  reached  their  perfection 
are  bowing  to  that  name,  ''  which  is  above  every  name  ;'> 
and  true  also,  that  the  innumerable  souls  in  waiting 
around  the  "  spiritual  tabernacle,"  though  gathered  from 
"  many  kindreds,  and  tribes,"  of  earth,  rejoice  in  Him 
only  whose  "  memorial  is  with  them," — whose  NAME 
contains  the  reason  of  their  hope  of  the  expected  redemp- 
tion of  the  body. 

But  in  its  reference  to  earth,  this  affirmation  is  antici- 
pative,  or  prophetic,  in  two  senses.  It  must  receive  its 
completion,  first,  in  the  conversion  of  all  tribes  of  men  to 
the  faith  of  Christ ;  and  then  in  the  utter  and  final 
disappearance  from  the  church  of  those  villifying  designa- 
tions, which  at  present  signalize  the  common  appellative 
— Christian,  only  to  defame  it,  by  calling  up  the  recol- 
lection, either  of  corruptions  or  of  strife. 

It  is  indeed  true  that  men — nay  multitudes,  from  all 
the  several  stocks  or  distinctly  characterised  families  of 
mankind,  have  become,  at  some  time  in  the  course  of 
eighteen  centuries,  or  are  now  members  of  the  Christian 
community  ;  and  have,  in  their  several  tongues,  invoked 
the  sacred  name  of  Jesus,  and  have  bore  it  as  their  glory 
and  opprobrium.  Every  generic  form  of  human  speech 
(extant  or  extinct)  has  been  consecrated  as  the  medium  of 
prayer  and  praise,  addressed  to  Him,  of  whom  it  is  declar- 
ed that,  "  all  nations  shall  worship  Him."  But  the  first 
fruits  are  not  the  harvest.  And  if  we  do  not  misinter- 
pret the  most  significant  and  emphatic  phrases,  the  era 
shall  come  when,  at  one  and  the  same  time,  men  of  every 
colour  and  every  dialect  shall  be  called  by  the  name  of 
Christ.  Or  may  we  suppose  that,  even  this  the  best  and 
most  comprehensive  of  all  designations,  shall  then  cease 


UNISON  OP  THE  HEAVENLY  HIERARCHY.          377 

to  be  thought  of,  because  no  longer  distinctive,  but  univer- 
sal ?  By  what  order  or  means  the  mighty  renovation 
shall  be  effected,  it  does  not  belong  to  us  confidently  to 
divine  ; — our  part  is  to  use  with  dilligence,  such  as  are 
actually  in  our  power  ;  and  incessantly  to  pray  that  these 
means,  or  others,  may  speedily  be  made  efficacious. 

The  second  sense  in  which  the  glory  of  Christ,  as 
Head  over  all  things,  remains  to  be  consummated  on  earth, 
is  in  the  final  disappearance  of  all  designations  but  the 
one  which  his  name  confers  : — and  who  can  doubt  but 
what  the  two  are  intimately  connected  ?  This  connexion 
may  be  predicated  in  every  form — positively  and  negative- 
ly :  and  in  every  form  it  is  true.  While  the  church  was 
one,  Christianity  spread ; — or  should  we  not  say,  burst 
over  the  world,  and  gathered  myriads  of  converts  from 
lands  within  and  far  beyond  the  limits  of  the  Roman  em- 
pire. When  Christians  became  factious— when  other 
names  than  the  name  of  Christ  were  called  upon,  then  the 
evangelical  circle  drew  in  apace:  no  more  conquests  were 
made ;  or  they  were  conquests  purely  nominal ;  and  ere 
long  the  fierce  Avenger  of  the  Lord's  quarrel  with  his 
church,  breaking  bounds!,  sword  in  hand,  from  his  sultry 
Arabian  sands,  drave  the  distracted  flock  from  field  to 
field,  until  the  Christan  name  was  near  to  be  quite  lost 
from  the  world. 

Nothing  effectively  was  done  to  retrieve  the  honours  of 
the  cross,  or  to  carry  the  name  of  Christ  beyond  its  re- 
stricted circle,  during  the  lapse  of  fourteen  centuries.  Not 
even  in  that  bright  hour  when  truth  broke  at  length  from 
its  confinement ;  not  even  then,  when  the  great  trumpet 
of  the  Gospel  was  again  loudly  blown  throughout  Chris- 
tendom, was  any  voice  heard  in  the  wilderness,  or  the 
solitary  places  of  the  world,  calling  idolatrous  men  to  sal-. 

29* 


378    .  SATURDAY  EVENING. 

vation.  It  was  indeed  a  time  of  TRUTH  ;  but  not  of 
LOVE  ;  and  therefore,  though  a  season  of  renovation,  was 
not  one  of  enlargement.  And  because  the  church  of  that 
day  would  not,  or  did  not  discharge  its  duty,  in  zealously 
attempting  to  propagate  the  faith,  but  rather  employed 
itself  in  vain  jangling,  it  was  soon  given  up  to  the  spirit 
of  discord ;  and  thence  sank  through  the  natural  stages 
of  formality,  and  frivolity,  and  absurdity — and  unbelief. 

The  sudden  reappearance,  in  our  own  times,  of  the 
primitive  zeal  for  evangelizing  the  world,  has  filled  all 
minds  with  the  brightest  expectations.  And  justly.  But 
the  expectation  •  is  not  infallible — nay,  may  actually  prove 
itself  fallacious.  This  very  same  holy  and  benevolent 
desire  to  bring  all  men  into  the  fold  of  Christ,  has  hereto- 
fore existed  in  the  highest  imaginable  vigour ;  but  after 
gathering  an  abundant  harvest,  in  a  brief  season,  it  died 
away  : — the  polytheistic  world  heard  no  more  of  the 
Gospel,  century  after  century.  In  the  course  of  a  thou- 
sand years  scarcely  a  single  light  was  carried  into  the 
centre"of  the  gross  darkness  that  covered  the  earth  ;  or  if 
carried,  was  soon  extinguished. 

Shall  we  then  learn  nothing  from  the  contemplation  of 
such  a  course  of  events? — Shall  we  fear  nothing  when 
we  have  proof  before  us,  that  the  principles  of  the  Divine 
government  actually  admit  of  the  long-continued  and 
almost  total  withdrawment  of  efficacious  influence  from 
the  church  1 — Shall  we  take  no  warning  when  a  lesson 
like  this  is  drawn  out  at  large  in  our  view,  and  we  see 
that  the  Lord  adheres  to  a  system  of  PUBLIC  .RETRIBU- 
TION, in  His  conduct  towards  his  people,  as  a  body  ;  and 
that  when  they  refuse  to  hearken  to  his  voice  in  capital 
matters,  He  retires,  as  if  in  grief,  to  the  recesses  of  the 
invisible  state,  and  though  he  preserves  the  spark  of  piety 


UNISON  OF  THE  HEAVENLY  HIERARCHY.          379 

on  earth  from  extinction — will  do  no  more  ?  Was  it  not 
in  fact  thus,  from  the  sixth  to  the  sixteenth  century  ? 

And  did  there  not  follow  another  wkhdrawment  of 
Divine  agency  from  the  church  at  large,  soon  after  the 
age  of  the  Reformation  ?  That  was  a  time  in  which 
Christians  might  have  returned  to  the  simplicity  of  charity 
and  fervour  ;  but  they  did  not :  and  He  whose  commands 
were  slighted  drew  back. 

It  is  now  confidently  believed  on  all  hands  that  no  such 
punitive  abandonment  of  the  church  is  any  more  to  be 
feared.  But  on  what  does  this  confidence  rest  ?  There 
are  two  grounds  on  which  it  might  rest  with  some  degree 
of  assurance.  Of  these  the  first  would  be  the  fact  of  an 
open,  and  unquestionable  prevalence,  throughout  the  pro- 
testant  communities,  of  a  spirit  of  contrition,  on  account, 
both  of  the  corruptions  and  the  discords  that  exist,  and 
have  so  long  existed,  within  them ;  together  with  a  cor- 
dial expression  of  willingness  to  make,  or  admit,  all  ne- 
cessary reforms ;  and  especially  a  hearty  desire  to  compose 
all  feuds.  Is  this  then  the  actual  state  of  things  ? — And 
is  this  the  source  of  the  confidence  we  indulge,  that  the 
Lord  will  not  again  withdraw  Himself  from  his  church  ? 
— Alas  ! — dare  we  profess  h  ? 

The  second  source  from  which  such  an  expectation 
might  be  drawn,  would  be,  the  indubitable  import  of  the 
prophetic  Scriptures,  declaring  that,  notwithstanding  all 
appearances  of  an  opposite  kind,  the  "  bright  appear- 
ance of  the  Lord  drew  nigh."  But  is  our  argument 
settled,  and  our  path  ascertained  on  this  ground  ?  None 
but  the  most  presumptuous  will  say  so.  Even  without 
controverting  any  of  the  best  established  conclusions  of 
modern  prophetical  exposition,  there  is  room  for  the  sup- 
position that  Christianity,  may  yet  have  to  sustain  a  signal 


380  SATURDAY1  EVENING. 

reverse ;  and  once  more  be  driven  in  upon  its  very  centre. 

Without  pretending  to  deny  that  a  far  more  agreeable 
supposition  may  be  entertained,  it  may  be  surmised,  as 
not  altogether  improbable — That  after  the  several  reform- 
ed communities,  in  the  old  and  the  new  world,  have 
enjoyed  their  now  current  term  of  reanimation — a  term 
fast  running  out,  and  have  distinctly  been  called  to  re- 
pentance, and  have  deliberately  refused  to  give  heed  to 
that  call,  and  have  replied — "  We  need  not — will  not  do 
otherwise  than  we  do  ;  or  than  our  fathers  have  done" — 
that  then  the  fatal  decree  shall  go  out ; — not  audible 
indeed  by  mortal  ears  ;  but  certain  enough  in  its  effects. 
Unbelief,  and  secularity,  and  strife,  shall  rush  abroad,  and 
make  an  easy  conquest.  Perhaps  the  work  of  devastation 
may  be  consummated  by  temporal  judgments,  and  the 
enemies  of  the  Gospel  may  be  looking  every  moment  for 
its  expulsion  from  the  world. 

Meanwhile,  in  some  new  quarter,  where  the  soil  is  yet 
unbroken,  the  imperishable  seed  shall  be  seen  to  have 
fallen  into  "  good  ground,"  and  shall  rapidly  spring  up, 
and  the  religion  of  Christ  appear  in  its  glory,  and  put  on 
colours  that  are  not  to  fade.  The  Lord  himself  shall 
"  plant  in  the  wilderness"  the  beauty  of  Paradise  :  and 
shall  "  set  in  the  desert"  the  verdure  of  heaven  ; — "  and 
the  nations  shall  see  and  know,  and  consider,  and  under- 
stand together,  that  the  hand  of  the  Lord  hath  done  this  J 
and  the  Holy  One  of  Israel  hath  created  it  |?>  . 

THE    END. 


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